by David Willems
Yesterday I had a horrible fight with myself. So I made myself sleep on the couch while I stayed in bed. I had been right after all. It was a bit awkward in the morning. We tried to make up, but things changed after that. So I decided to move out. I moved as far away from myself as possible. I never answered my phone. I never answered my letters or emails. I never spoke to my friends about me. This went on for over a year.
Eventually, I moved back into the city, this time living for a while in a hotel. Imagine my surprise when one morning I ran into myself in the hallway getting some ice. There were some small mutterings, awkward silences. It turned out that I had booked a room right next to myself. The me I hadn’t seen for a while was now dating someone who looked a lot like me. At night I could hear myself making passionate love through the thin walls of the hotel room, and it drove me crazy. I ended up ignoring myself in the hallway if we happened to be leaving our rooms at the same time.
Things eventually calmed down after a while, and as a truce I invited myself out for some dinner. We got along well and started reminiscing about old times together. We discussed the root of the issues behind our problems with ourselves, and by the end of the night, we had made plans to catch a baseball game the next week.
We got on famously after that.
Sadly, after a year or so, cracks in my relationship with the one who looked like myself next door began to form. I got jealous of how often I was spending time with myself; all the dinner parties, the concerts, the walks in the museums. Why couldn't I just spend more time with myself instead of someone who merely seemed to be me? Why always me this, me that? I was beginning to wonder if I loved myself better than me. If that were the case, I would move out. I couldn't deal with someone cheating on me with myself. I eventually had to admit I still had strong feelings for me, and so we broke up.
I must admit I was excited when I came over one weepy night and told myself what had happened. I took myself in my arms and we began to kiss. The next morning, over coffee, I asked myself if I would want to move back in with me, just as a trial run. After a lot of deliberation, we decided we should try and find a bigger place to accommodate ourselves. The hotel room I was in was just too small for both of us. We needed space from ourselves from time to time.
A month later, I put a deposit down and helped myself move into our new place. Things have been amazing with myself for over a year now. I haven't had any major rows with myself. I get up early to see myself off to work, and often wake up to find I've made myself breakfast. Everything is great, though I must admit I still cautiously approach the mirror in our bathroom every morning.