I am not her and she is not me. The two of us are not one and the same. The differences may not be something that all of you would notice right away but I promise you they are there.

Things as common as the way we take our coffee and as complex as how we handle life-altering events. Our favorite colors and foods are not the same. There are things I adore about her that she would claim as a flaw. There are things she can’t stand about me that I think are perfect just the way I am.

We handle things differently well not always over the years we have found common ground on a lot of things. I am always here although she may not be. I have this need to protect her from all the things I think she can’t see. It took me a long time to realize that she sees just as much as me, she just sees it differently.

I always feel like I am more aware than she is, as I see it all every second of every day but when I am front and center she remembers it like a dream. Not a memory, a dream the fuzzy kind that disappears the moment you wake up.

It’s not like that for me. I am just as aware as she is except I don’t always get a say in how things play out. As frustrating as that can be I couldn’t imagine having to put pieces together and try to figure out if that is even how things really happened or if you just made it all up in your head.


“The individual does actually carry on a double existence: one designed to serve his own purposes and another as a link in a chain, in which he serves against, or at any rate without, any volition of his own.”
― Sigmund Freud