The Worst Half Of Me

I reckon no one has ever told you to search for your worst half.

My worst half is an eerie dream,

A wedding dress torn at the seams,

Beautiful and broken all in one entity.

.

I reckon no one has ever celebrated a long-term union with a beast.

Mine found me on social media.

First, he chewed up my heart,

Then, he slurped up the blood from my feeble veins.

Finally, like the worst thing, which, whole-heartedly, he promised to be,

He devoured my whole brain.

Afterall, he is the worst half of me.

.

Though all online, like Lana, I knew my body as a map.

He was frequently lost during the day.

By night, he was a rover on Mars and I was willing.

I remember him telling me the worst things that could ever happen to a little boy, and I heard the little girl in me cry out for him.

It made no sense to be so far away.

Such an awful thing.

.

I am telling you, he truly is the worst thing.

Whenever he laughed, I laughed harder.

Whenever he cried, I cried even harder.

When he was angry, the only thing stopping me from burning down the houses of his offenders was the 600 miles between me and the darkness within me.

I reckon he would have done the same for me.

I do not know if you will ever believe me, but my worst half played baseball like a champion.

He sang, to which I realized he was an angel before Christ.

He gloated, he cussed, he frowned, he avowed,

He listened, he comforted, he held, he loved.

My worst half was the moon and the sun, darkness and lightness

--- the creation story.

It was like I finally understood how I was created without really understanding anything.

You will never understand, though I know you are curious to hear more.

.

He is the worst half of me.

One day, he threw me away to pick up my own shattered pieces.

For days, I dragged my limbs around trying to figure out how to function now that I could no longer see the other side of me.

How could I go on?

It was like looking in the mirror and seeing nothing,

Like walking amidst a sunset and seeing no shadow beside me.

How could I prove my existence to myself and others, prove that I was a breathing living being, that I was worth something without the other side of me?

Darkness was dark, but it was still lighter than nothingness.

Darkness and lightness, they work together, always.

I was a mess.

.

He was the worst half of me.

Day by day, I learned to converse with my worst half through lyrical serenades that travelled across space and time.

I sang until songbirds all around me blushed and ceased to sing.

I sang for the mountains and seas to find a way to meet.

I sang lullabies like it was my baby that I wanted to communicate with me.

One day, I suddenly began to feel my worst half within me.

First, I denied him.

Then, I was angry at him.

For a while, I oscillated between extremes and tried negotiating with emotions that stood at the edges of the Grand Canyon, looking down into an abyss of fear and catastrophe.

By the time months had passed, I was rising out of my grief and befriending all the potential feelings.

I was a rockstar.

.

That was when he came back.

My worst half came back one day and meekly asked if I still had half of me to house his own.

I held his hands in mine even when he looked away.

I am telling you,

The fear in his eyes, they were like stray puppies and kittens without a loving home.

I said to him:

I always have and I always will.

He asked me why I still wanted him if he had been my worst half.

I told him that he already knew the answer,

That he had been my worst half, but he was truly my best half, and I had found him in me.

I told him that he had come back, this time, asking for what he truly wanted for us, and that is the most important thing to me.

.

Yes, the better half of me is like every single man in the world and none at once,

Every horny teenage boy,

Every outlived grown-ass old fuck,

Every dignified individual and lousy loser,

Every monk and saint,

Every devil and perverted gang,

He embodied anything and everything that I needed him to be without myself realizing that need.

This is the story of how the worst half of me became the best half of me,

Became the best thing that ever happened to me,

And I sing out loud now,

I sway my hips,

I wear baggy clothes with hoop earrings on some days and a lil’ pink dress with tights on other days,

I go after what I want,

But I never chase what is not meant to be presently,

You can find us swinging on swings at a playground,

Sipping our lattes,

Throwing our arms in the air,

Laughing at just about anything,

And I still look into his eyes and see those abandoned puppies and kittens, but this time, I see a bed, some treats, and inner peace and harmony.

We could spend days swinging, bettering one another.

That is how I know he is the best half of me.

Yes, I know that with spirited certainty, and now, I know you can feel it too.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you would like to support my writing, please consider liking my story, subscribing, pledging and/or tipping. Thank you for reading!