Self (ishness)?

"I feel trapped," she moaned. "Shackled."

"But why? What did I do?"

"It isn't you. It's me. I don't know who I am any more. I don't even know who I was. Have I ever been me? It's agony, this confusion. I can't stand it. I have to go."

"But there must be something I can do?"

"There isn't. If there had been, we'd have seen it before now. If love can't save us, nothing can."

"But surely... I mean... What will...? Can't...? God! There must be a way!"

"Please. Don't make it harder. I am already shredded. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

"But where will you go? What will you do? How on earth will you survive?"

"It's a new beginning. I have to shed the past and concentrate on my future. I have to find myself. I'm sorry. Really, I am. I never meant to hurt you. You never changed. You're lucky. You'll always be you. I have to be positive. I have to believe that I will continue to exist. Or start existing, even."

"So you never existed with me?"

"I didn't say that. Some form of me did. And was happy for a time. It isn't you. It's me. You mustn't blame yourself. Hate me. HATE me, if it makes it easier."

"It doesn't."

"Given time..."

"Don't!"

"There's nothing more to say then. I have to go. I do love you, you know."

"DON'T!"

"Goodbye."



But what...

about...

ME?