What are you afraid of?

Many things.

Give me an example. Or a couple.

I’m afraid of hurting others, of never finding a career I truly enjoy. I’m scared my parents will never fully love me if I don’t become the person they want me to be. I’m afraid of becoming sick. I’m afraid of loved ones becoming sick.

That’s a shame.

Why do you say it in that tone?

You sound like you’re afraid you’ll never be good enough, that you’ll let the laws of reality govern you, in which case, when you live in fear, you surround yourself in what you manage to try so desperately to avoid.

But that’s what life is all about, living up to reality.

Elaborate on this thought. It sounds more to me like you’re trying to find a way to survive it.

Completing the Bachelor’s forks the path. One of which I can find a job or the other is which I go to graduate school.

Both of those paths converge to the same path.

I guess that’s the point.

Both don’t sound happy.

You can’t ask for that sort of luxury.

Why is that?

There’s bills to pay, food to place on the table, people to impress, structure to maintain, relationships to sustain.

And who has instilled this thought on you?


Who’s society?

The people.

Who’s the people?

Everybody around me.

Does society not include you?

It does.

So can you displace the thought onto society when you are in actuality part of this very thought?

Because they are the vast majority. I am just one person.

Peer pressure only works if you fall for it.

So you’re saying this is my own fault?

I wouldn’t say it with those words, with such a dismal accusation. It’s much lighter than that, much more hopeful than that. But for simplicity’s sake, yes. So now we are back to the beginning of the fork of the path again.

What are you implying?

We’ve made a full circle back to you – the idea of you, and the reality of you. Everything comes back to you. You created an image of the fork, yet you psyche yourself out with either option. Neither contributes to your well-being, the options just cancel out the anxiety that clouds your judgment. Instead of studying the path of the fork, why don’t you look at the broader picture? Why is there a fork to begin with, why and how do you view it this way?

Life is all about decisions.

Why are there only two that converge into one?

Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?

Nothing is supposed to drown you. Everything is supposed to free you.


There’s a knot in my stomach.

There’s a knot in my heart.

(this is intended to be cute and humorous, it just depends on how you read it and picture their personalities)

Okay, I have a plan.

Okay, go!

We’re going to live in a tiny apartment with a mix of Swedish or Scandinavian design in Seattle. I’m thinking navy or black. No grey. Minimalism is key. We could always go for warm colors instead. What do you think? Should we get a 2br so we can have our an art room? We’re going to adopt a puppy and name him Krypto. We’re also going to adopt a bunny and name her Naomi. We’re going to build her a little shed on our porch so she doesn’t stink up the house. We’re also going to have a garden. There is only one thing though…

What is it?

You have to wake up at 8am and water the plants everyday, okay? Because I want to sleep in.

You really hate me, don’t you?

You said you love sunrises!

You’re sneaky, aren’t you, you think you can convince me?

Is it working?

Can we get a chinchilla? Or a ferret?


I’ll keep your plants alive if you let me buy one of those!

Damn it. Deal.

But you have to remember something.

Which is?

You fell in love with me first.

That’s not true.

I looked at your eyes, and before I could say anything, I felt the love you had for me. It was then that I decided I liked your love. Your eyes say, hello I’m in love with you but you cannot fall in love with me. It’s too late, I said. This was the moment we’ve both been waiting for.

I haven’t been waiting for anything.

You’re telling me you’ve never waited to feel the way you do when we’re together.

How can you say you know what I’m feeling?

Because the only reason you won’t kiss me is because you force yourself to repel from me. You fight what is between us. The first kiss is always the end of two people missing each other. We were supposed to meet, darling, but you can run away if you need to.

Why would I run away?

You’ll see.

Anything could happen.

Everything will happen.

How do you know?

Because I’ve lived this life already.

Hah. And what does that exactly mean?

It means I’ve already read about this life, the facts are written in textbooks and the heartbreaks are written in poems found in shoeboxes.

So what happens?



Nothing really. LIfe is a fractal. People are sent out to face their fears. That’s why you’re still here, facing these obstacles. You will die and be reborn as many times as needed until you begin to understand your darkness.

And what happens if the pattern keeps repeating itself?

That’s the goal. The goal is that it won’t, that people will restore to a state of love. The day you love is the day you die.

But, wait, that doesn’t make sense.

What confuses you?

You can’t die for two opposing reasons.

One is out of environmental circumstances, the other personal. In the first situation, they kill you. In the second situation, you choose to die.

Who’s they? And why would I wish death upon myself if I knew love?

Me. And you will figure that out with time.

Why would you kill me?

Because I am you.

This doesn’t make any sense.

That’s because you do not solve contradictions in this lifetime. It will be the next one.

Then what happens to me after that life?



Exactly that.

You are talking in circles.

The fact that you believe I am talking in circles is indicative of the fact that your mind is spinning in circles. Everything I say has clear direction.

You haven’t told me any answers!

I’ve provided you with many, more than I tell most.

When do the patterns stop repeating themselves?

They never do.

But you,  you just said the goal is that they don’t!

The purpose is that they do, and always will.

Are you always this arrogant?

What a bold accusation. Arrogant? If by that, you mean your disturbance with my energy, then I suppose so. Don’t be quick to displace negative personality traits onto another just because of your personal insecurities.

I don’t have any insecurities. You’re just an arrogant asshole and I’m wasting my time.

Then why do you persist with this conversation?

Ugh, what is the purpose of this conversation?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

(this has been inspired by alternate realities! under my scripts tab is the “original” conversation. the parallels are quite interesting i would say!)

I feel useless.

I miss when you used to believe you were the world’s ray of sunshine. This sorrow isn’t you.

They say it just takes time.

And I’m here throughout it all, but we are going to have to do something.

I did some research today. Maybe melatonin could help my inability to sleep.

You like to sleep with the lights on. It keeps your cobweb of thoughts from further tangling, remember?

So I’ll start sleeping with them off.

That’s silly. We are not going to do that, and also, we both know that you don’t believe in medication.

I think I’m going to go outside today, get some sunlight for once.

But it’s raining. Look outside. Can’t you hear it? Darling, you’re so distracted, where is my Haley?

Then I’ll stay inside and find something productive to do, like sweep, I haven’t for weeks. This place looks like a mess.

The messiness of the house is the least of our worries, and you know that. Please don’t clean.

But you used to love it.

Your cleaning?! Yes, of course! Where did you get this idea? It’s not whether I love or hate the idea of you cleaning. It’s whether or not you are actually taking care of yourself. Habits change, that doesn’t mean I love you any less.

Things die, you mean. Someone once said, if a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

You haven’t written in a while. Maybe some writing would spark some insight?

I don’t know how, you know that.

That’s a joke, Haley, and we both know it. You’re a fascinating writer. You always told me you were deeply under the influence of language. You can always try something else if writing doesn’t fit the niche. There was a time when everything was self-therapy for you.

Can I paint it out for you?

I just used the last of the paint supplies today, there’s a bit of acrylics left, but not too much.  What about a metaphor? That’s always been your best way of describing something.

You know when you’re merging onto a freeway of afternoon traffic? I always feel like I’m entering a war. A war with myself that never ends. That’s what depression feels like. An ongoing traffic jam.

That’s not fully true. It wasn’t always like that. You used to say evening traffic was a reminder that it was always holiday season. The cars heading your way were the red Christmas lights, and the cars heading the opposite direction were the white Christmas lights. You told me that in your imagination, they were moving lights. You loved it. You loved being part of the Christmas spirit.

I love you.

Haley, I love love you too. But love isn’t going to fix your depression. I miss you. Come back.