There are two of us, but we are one.

We have always been one, and we will always be one.

Isn't that strange?

To have someone you trust so completely, be a part of you.

It's a nice feeling, but sometimes it's lonely.

Yes, sometimes even with the two of us, it gets lonely.

After all, why would anyone assume we need company?

I am me.

No, I am me.

I am myself.

Who are you?

I am you. You are me.

We are one and the same.

And yet, we are so very different.

Sometimes, I like to watch the sunrise early in the morning.

In the midst of all the darkness and dreadfulness, there is light in that one little sunrise.

Its rays soak up everything around me, and I'm enveloped in the warmth.

The rising of that morning sun signifies a new day, a new beginning; a new way.

Perhaps today, things will be different.

Perhaps today, things will change for the better.

Perhaps today, I'll look into her eyes and she'll look into mine and we won't be lonely anymore.

Perhaps today, I'll step out of this cold, uncaring world and into one where there's light and warmth, just like that sunrise.

And perhaps today, I'll be more than a slave to a system that is bound to fail.

Isn't that a nice thought?

Sometimes, I like to watch the moon shine late in the evening.

In the midst of all the darkness and dreadfulness, it's nice to know a light can overcome it all.

At the end of the day, the moon is nothing but a reflection; a ghost of the light that emanates from the sun.

But isn't that what we all are?

The shining of the moon signifies hope; a sign that circumstances will improve.

Within darkness comes a bright light.

Perhaps today I will search for that light.

Perhaps today I will succeed in what I plan to achieve.

Perhaps today I will look into her eyes and she'll look into mine and we'll both realize how alone we'll always be.

Perhaps today I'll find hope…

…or perhaps I never will.

In the end, we're all slaves to a system that is bound to fail.

At the very, very end, I'll look up into her eyes and she'll look down into mine and maybe we'll destroy each other instead of letting this world destroy us.

That would be the perfect ending, in my opinion.

And really, we're nothing more than a story book with a bad ending.

But at least I can be me.

And I can be me.

We're bound together by fate and life and death and unexplainable situations, but that doesn't mean we're the same.

Does it?

We are one and the same.

And yet, we are so very different.

There's a word for that, in their world.

Twins.

Is that what we are? Twins?

We look alike. We speak alike. We dress alike.

We even act alike sometimes, when the situation requires it.

But are we the same?

Am I you?

I don't know.

Are you me?

I don't know.

I touch my hand to hers, and she stares back, mimicking my expression as if I was looking into a mirror.

Are you just a mirror of my soul?

I can't be, because you are the mirror of mine.

Sometimes I have this dream; this really silly dream that's honestly too embarrassing to tell to anyone but myself and I.

I dream that I can fall in love.

I dream that somewhere, somehow, there's someone waiting for me who will pick me up in their arms and kiss me and hold me and love me.

I suppose that's a silly dream to have, isn't it?

No, because I have that dream as well.

Doesn't that mean we're the same person, then?

I don't know.

I don't know either.

But I do know this much…I am me.

And I am me as well.

Always.