Me talking with myself on the mirror

Can you ever forget a person? Every particle of them—their face, their eyes, their touch, their voice, and their thoughts? Or is it enough to lose the memories in order to forget someone? How do people forget so easily and leave behind those they once said they loved so much? Was it all a lie? No, no—it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. But why?

People are simple and frightening. Unpredictability is frightening. And people act in a chaotic way. I fear what I cannot foresee. What if something happens? Every time I said "never again," didn’t I end up hating myself again? I did—every single time. Don’t people ever learn? Don’t they grow from their mistakes? What makes something a mistake, if not the consequences? Perhaps the way it's done, but ultimately, it’s the consequences. Anything that harms you is a mistake. Is that so? Is it a mistake to put yourself in danger and get hurt for someone? I guess it depends on the person. If I can’t live without them, maybe it’s not a mistake. But I’ve never tried living without them—so how can I decide?

I don’t think I’ve ever really tried living. I didn’t even fight for it. Living is made of emotions—without emotions, there is no life. Am I not alive then? I’m just an empty shell. A biological creature, nothing more. I can’t live without my emotions, and I haven’t lived since I was 13. What does it feel like to live? How does one know they’re alive—or that they exist at all? Knowing you exist is easy: if you affect another being, even in the slightest way, you exist. But what about living? Am I feeling emotions but unaware of them? If emotions don’t exist, is it all just Plato’s cave? Each so-called emotion has a definition. But what if those are just shadows on the wall? Emotions shouldn't have explanations—they can't. How can you compare my anger to yours? People feel differently. But how do they feel? According to what?

What is love, then? Based on what does someone love another, and how does one feel loved? Is it the thoughtfulness in little things? A grand gesture of affection? Or ADHD? Or too much B12? Or just good memory? How does one know they’re loved? Based on what is a person lovable? I know what makes someone unlovable: being rude. Right? Apparently not. Then what about being cruel? Still no. So what makes someone unlovable? And what makes someone lovable? Why is love a feeling some people never get to know? Some don’t love anyone, or even if they do, they’re not loved in return. Was this the great punishment of mighty Zeus? Did the other end of my ribbon tear off, leaving me alone?

Where did Zeus even come from?

One day, the great god on top of Mount Olympus realizes that he can’t escape the noise of humanity—even up there—and decides they must be punished. The hermaphroditic humans, with four arms, four legs, and two heads, are split in two, torn from their soulmates. Legend has it that humans are connected to their other halves by an invisible ribbon tied around their pinkies. What happened to mine?

It all came back to me. We were deceived, my people. We were deceived by emotions. We were deceived by what we felt. Why? Because of people. Again and again and again. We believed in their lies. We believed their feelings were real. My emotions tied themselves to one another, as if they could never untangle their knots for eternity. And I... I corrupted their cries for help, thinking they were free. But they’re not. They never will be. Because of me. My emotions are imprisoned, and the key was swallowed by the serpent of the worlds.