Conversations between me and myself

My days are loud, full of thoughts. Of dialogues between her and me. Who is she?

It’s the woman who greets me through the mirror.
She: Hello
Me: Hi
She: you look tired
Me: I haven’t slept well
She: I can tell. You look old and tired. And is that grey hair? It’s time to dye again.
Me: Fuck off
She: language, young lady
Me: whatever. I don’t need you in my life
She: you’re wrong. I am in you. I am you.
I walk out of the the bathroom and shut the lights. I get dressed.

She: Hi again
Me: didn’t I tell you to piss off?!
She: don’t look in the mirror then
Me: *rolls eyes*
She: you lost weight. It shows.
Me: really?
She: yeah. Your hourglass figure is back and that fat tummy is getting less.
Me: *turns from one side to the other with a smile* Thank you. I don’t look like shit today.
She: you still look tired
Me: fuck off!

I make myself a cup of tea. A yogurt and a banana for breakfast.
She: oh can’t you drink a cup of coffee for once and smoke a fag? I’m dying for a fag.
Me: It’s unhealthy and I want to be healthy
She: just one then. Your choice.
Me: *pours boiling water into a cup and adds Maté tea* no. I can’t.
She: why?
Me: I am not a smoker and Pete hates it.
She: he doesn’t have to know and there’s that pack in that drawer. Come on.
Me: okay. Just one.
As always, once a week – or twice, I give in. I light my cigarette, take my cup and my kindle and smoke on the balcony.
She: ah. That’s good. Look at the clouds.
Me: I love clouds. *takes a picture and posts it to Instagram with a poem*
The morning is quieter while I put in a load of laundry, fill the dishwasher and turn the music louder.

She: why did you skip that song?
Me: I can’t listen to his voice right now
She: do you love him?
Me: yeah. No. Do I? I love Pete.
She: he makes you happy and he offers you his time. The biggest gifts of all.
Me: I know. But why?!
She: ask!
Me: I can’t. *opens email client and writes a lengthy email*
She: wow, you’re clingy. You’re making him run
Me: shit. I can’t unsend it. It was your idea. Stupid!
She: your fingers wrote the thing. Own up to it.
Me: didn’t I tell you to piss off?
She: language
Me: *turns music even louder to drown out the voice*

She: talk to me
Me: why?
She: I am lonely
Me: get some friends then
She: I don’t have friends and you know it. I keep them at distance on purpose.
Me: not my problem
She: yes it is. You are lonely and need attention too.
Me: you’re wrong
She: I am not and you know it. That’s why you write what you write. You expect them to react and to love you.
Me: shut up. I don’t want to hear it.
She: but I am right. You want to be seen and to be loved. But once someone sees you, you either hide or get clingy.
Me: maybe
She: not maybe. Certainly.

Me: *types a new poem on the phone*
She: that one is crap. You can do better.
Me: *deletes* maybe she is right. I don’t have anything meaningful to say. Maybe I should delete my account. No one needs my ramble and mediocre writing anyway.
She: your writing is not bad. And there are people who love it.
Me: why?
She: because.
Me: because what?
She: because I said so.

Me: could you please leave me alone for once?
She: no. You know that I want to be there when he calls.
Me: he will not call. I pushed him away with all the talk about him being perfect.
She: but he is.
Me: I know
She: he’ll come around.
Me: I don’t want him to
She: why?
Me: because of my responsibilities and my family
She: does he make you happy and a better person?
Me: yes
She: give in to him
Me: it’s immoral and a one way street. I will end up being hurt
She: but at least you did something for yourself.
Me: I do that all the time
She: by sabotaging and punishing yourself. That’s not the same.
Me: shut up.
She: it’s getting old and you know I will not shut up
Me: please
She: go to sleep then.

Me: will you let me sleep?
She: maybe until 2am. Then I will torture you some more.
Me: okay. Talk to you later.

She: you are a good person.
Me: go to sleep.
She: but really. I like you.
Me: than why do I hate myself?
She: because you never learned to love yourself.
Me: there is nothing loveable about me. Please let me sleep.
She: not before you check wattpad, twitter, facebook and instagramm
Me: it’s the middle of the night
She: but the light on your phone is blinking.
Me: so what?
She: what if it is important
Me: it never is
She: it could be
Me: *gives in and checks social networks*

She: you look like shit this morning
Me: you don’t look better
She: I am a beauty. Put some more mascara on
Me: will you be quieter today
She: of course not
Me: will you make me sad?
She: I prefer not to, but you know me. Triggers are everywhere
Me: okay. Maybe we should try the peace and serenity thing today
She: deal. Put on some music and get started.

(…)