Only One

I always saw him in my dreams. We met in a thinly wooded forest with a smoldering red sky. Why, I don’t know. But he was always there.

He looked just like me. His face was the same, perhaps a little less smooth, and his eyes were the same soft cobalt. He had the firmer features of a man, but his body was smooth and soft, with my hips and posture. He looked so much like me.

He was me. He had to be me.

When I changed my look, so did he. When I wore thick eye makeup and dressed punk, so did he. When I grew my hair long, he did the same. Every time we met, we looked a little more alike. He was a man, but he was also me.

I coveted him. Each time we met, I wanted to walk closer. Yet, he avoided me. Our presence must have tormented the other – he moved back as I approached, and eventually disappeared into the reddened forest. When I woke, my chest ached with dull envy.  

I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be him. 

One night, he didn’t flee. I walked cautiously towards him, arms outstretched in a gesture of peace. I didn’t want war with him. I hoped he felt the same. I hoped our mutual curiosity would overwhelm the equally mutual resentment. I’d always sensed it in him. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to be me, just like I wanted to be him. We couldn’t both have our way.

He reached out to me. We grasped each other’s hands. I looked down to see his thin fingers, masculine yet distinctly mine. His tight grip coaxed me to squeeze.

We looked at each other. Finally, we were close.

We spoke.

“What can I do to make you go away forever?”

2 thoughts on “Only One

    1. Hey, I really appreciate that! I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner to thank you.

      This thing has been vexing me for a very long time, and I finally got the courage to write about it.

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