The Woman

I write today with a heavy heart. It has recently come to my attention that the woman and I are indeed, not the same person. She is one, and I am another. This news has not been easy to come to terms with and I'm still not sure if I believe it.

Before my birth we operated as a single organism; pulsing and growing together. Her breaths sustained me, her emotions coursed through my nervous system and I could literally feel the state of her heart. Her heart. The drumbeat of my soul that to this day I still hear echoing in my body louder than my own footsteps. In those days we sang to each other a song so perfect and harmonious.

I am at a loss with what to do with the information that she can walk in one direction and I in another. Sometimes it gives me an adrenaline rush; the thrill, the risk, the excitement of being an independent being as I run away while hearing her frantic voice calling. Other times I feel lost as I look around see that she's not by my side. At those times, a panic rises in me so urgent that I lose control and all sense of time and space.

Before I came to the knowledge of our separate wills, we were one. I didn't know who was in control of who- it didn't matter- but it was as if her limbs were an extension of mine, a fully symbiotic and fluid relationship. We still have those moments but I feel shattered when our agendas collide, or worse, directly oppose each other. It's as if I'm telling my leg to walk and it remains planted in the Earth. I scream at it to obey, but my flesh betrays me. Rage and confusion then take me in their arms and throw me out of this world into a place I don't like to go often. At the end I'm tired, hiccuping, and drenched in my own tears.

Every con has its pro. Being able to resist her, stand myself planted as firmly as an oak as her wishes fall onto my deaf ears fills me with a sense of me. The autonomy I get a taste of has proven itself an addicting nectar.

This is the line I walk daily. We're one, but we're two. One, but two. It is the two I find so indigestible right now. It sits in my mouth like a bite of food too big for me to work with...even if it tastes new and good I don't know if I can risk choking on the very idea that one day I might run so far that I can't find my way back to her.

So today I will cling. The collar of her shirt will remain in my fist, my face pressed against the skin of her chest as I inhale the first scent that wafted into my nose when I was still floating within her. "Don't leave me," my spirit whispers to hers as I try to melt back inside and remember the song we used to sing.

Today I want to be one.

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