The Other Me

I was on a long road called Denial and not for the first time when I suddenly bumped into someone familiar. It was the other me. The one who likes to dance to the rhythm of the wind and run around on grass, yelling like a madwoman on a night when the moon is blurred by clouds. It was the me who shivered at the thought of lonely nights and gushed at the sight of a setting sun. My hopes and aspirations bundled into a tiny pill floating in outer space. It was nice to meet the other me and to open the windows wide enough to let the world come in. It was cold and frightening to meet the other me in Denial for I haven't met her in years. I wanted to hold her hand and lead her in a dance together. My eyes bulged in my head, weary of all the endless dreary days and hers were aglow with a fire, warm and kindled long ago. It was nice to scream into the night about all the dreams that had dreamed their last and to look into the fog without the familiar nausea of fear. I felt free. She was my liberator. Viva la vida!