Unknown Identity

This is for everyone. Hi everyone. How are you? “How am I?” You may ask. Well I am screaming at the top of my lungs, holding onto my long hair, feeling the red streak through my fingers. You remember that read streak don’t you Him. I will call you Him, because some of you may not be Him, but one of you is Him. This is also for you Him. That red streak that I got when Him said that we should get one together, Him would put a small color in between the mess of Him’s bed head, dark brown, hair. And me? I got one right behind my ear. Visible if you try, and not if you don’t.
So why am I screaming? Because I have to. Because I need to drown out the thoughts of what Him did to me, or rather I did to Him. Somehow, though, screaming doesn’t do anything. The thoughts are still streaming around screaming right with my voice, louder, and higher then my range can even manage.
What am I trying to forget? Everything. But I can’t. There are so many memories lying around this damn house that I just can’t forget. There are pictures that were thrown everywhere. There are CD’s that have fallen, some broken, some shattered, and there are books, torn and disheveled.
Why is this house like this? For so many reasons. For misunderstandings. For ignorance. For hate. For love. Remember when you said you loved me Him? I am talking directly to you now. You pulled me in your arms on our first date, yes our first, and you kissed me softly, letting out a visible breath in the frosty air and you let go. You said “I don’t care how soon this is, I simply do not.” You looked at me ascetically, and said “I love you” holding my chin in your fingers.
So then what is wrong? Well everyone, I fell in love, that is what is wrong. I fell in love with the best man on earth. I fell in love with a man so amazing, so perfect for me in all the ways possible. I fell in love, and that is what is wrong. I fell in love. Need I repeat myself again? I will just so you all understand. I fell in love.
What is the problem then? The problem is that I fell in love. Aren’t you listening? Goodness! Him, yes you, you are perfect in every way possible. It is me that is not, so I would ask you to tell them, because I know you would tell it better, but I know you wont, because you are not speaking to me.
We fell in love, Him and I, and we spent every waking moment together. I was terrified though. I have never, in all my life, felt so strongly for a person like Him. From the moment we met, when our shoulders brushed in line in a crowded music store, buying the same CD, I knew I was in deep trouble. However I pushed my thoughts aside as I spent more and more time with Him. I pushed and I pushed, but suddenly I could not anymore.
Who was I without Him? No one. That is exactly my point. I was nobody without Him and that scared the s**t out of me. What if you left, Him? What if you decided you didn’t need me anymore? I needed you, because without you I was no one.
What about before? I do not remember before Him. That is the thing. I tried so hard to remember who I was as a person before Him came along. I just couldn’t. So one day, you remember this day, I became so fed up, so miserable in my own horrible thoughts, that I ruined everything. I took the CD ‘s we had in our hands when we first met and I broke them. I threw them to the floor. I stepped on them. I reached for Alice in Wonderland, the book you read to me as we sat under a shaded tree holding each other. I reached for it and took it out of the bookshelf, bringing with it ten or so books to come tumbling open on the ground. I ripped the book and I threw the pages. I grabbed the photos we had taken with our disposable camera, me in a sun dress at the park, Him running from the camera, his converse kicking towards the lens. I threw them around the room and I ripped them. I cried, and I cried. I was you. And when you left, Him, I would be nothing. Memories could not change that.
But memories are all I have now. They are all over the floor, unable to be picked up, and all I can do is scream.
You came home to me on the hard wood floor, lying in the mess I created. When you tried to ask what had happened I had stopped you. I had told you I couldn’t be you anymore. You looked at me with curiosity in your beautiful face, but you did not question aloud. Instead, you left me. That is what I wanted, and you always gave me what I wanted.
But what if I don’t know what I really want?
What if what I really want is to be you again?
Is that so wrong?
To be someone else?
Yes?
It is?
Then what do I do? I ask you everyone. What does a girl with an unknown identity do?