notes: Only people from the LJ community dndressingroom would really understand this. But, I decided to post it anyway. (Rinna-- dedications special for you!)
(This is told from B's point of view, just so you know.)
Some call me a narcissist.
Whether they have suffice reasoning behind that or not is beyond me, but perhaps I can try to toss the idea around.
The things I have done are not entirely selfish-- no, no, not entirely. Narcissism. How to define, how to elaborate?
Maybe it was him.
He was always so gentle, so innocent as though not a stain nor cloud had ever touched the surface of his being. But I knew, I knew that somewhere, deep within him, darkness resided, as it does in everyone. He was-- different, however, and figuring him out, unraveling why he thought in the way that he did, was one of my greatest challenges.
I considered it another experiment. One for the road, if you will. At that time I had underestimated the consequences of my actions, and after speaking with him for the first time I knew that something…
…something was not right.
Perhaps it had been like that for quite some time, and I had yet to realize it.
He was the dainty thing that was torn away from me, tossed about like a bag of coins to a weary peasant; maybe I was doing it for myself.
I didn't think it was possible to live without him.
Soon though, I found that things can never be simple. He-- L, would never have it. We were both such selfish, selfish people.
The both of us wanted to keep him away from one another, and he was just as determined as I to do just that. Maybe we thought that whoever won could keep him in their pocket, so that he would always, always be safe from the other.
This is not true.
In reality, what I had once thought to be a victory on my part was nothing short of failure.
He was my other half; my missing piece, I suppose. We looked exactly alike, features matching down to the very color pigments of our skin. Our minds, however, were very different. Could he have been the good that I had lived without for so, so many years?
Luxaky-chan, I called him, and I called him proudly. Nothing could ever take-- him, never take him away from me.
This is simply because he and I, in reality, were the same person.
And simultaneously, we were not.
(We just were.)
Some call me a narcissist.
I don't think as much.