Someone Else

There was that swelling of his ego that far exceeded truth. Delusional, confused and egocentric, he spoke not without intent; every word was a glorification of himself. More aptly put: communication scarcely was a double-sided equation. Status consumed his thought-process as he strived to define himself with words he did not know. It would seem he was everything I wasn't. Thus far in this relationship, callous, half-thought attempts to fish out the truth fell upon deaf ears - for the both of us.

Truth was a pallette with which we dabbed our brushes and painted the world. His universe was a reflection, self-contained; light and lumination merely dulled his decay of imaginitive self. I took a glimpse of his world - a mirror - and realized the self that I hate. Never did I want to return, much to his dismay. In knowing this, I used my most precious weapon against him - Truth. I lodged it in-between us, ever so slightly, and watched the rut perpetuate. He stumbled and shrieked, engulfed in the flames that for so long I have seeked. We drifted, as satellites, through a void of space - fuelled by truth of opposing directions. The hole grew. Space and metaphor are abandoned and for a brief moment I am him -- nonplussed. Just as quickly as he came, he vanishes. Once again, I'm alone; Equal parts of me, equal parts of Him.

And that much more Myself.