Split in Two

I've talked before about the different parts of me.  I am split in half with a few fragments of different things thrown in the mix.  My homework from Libbi was to have these two meet, since they have not before.  The goal is integration. 

A round faced small child of about 6 years old plays in the wet sand on the shore of the ocean. She is crouched down staring at the water. She loves to use her imagination and create fantasy worlds to live in. Her white dress has ruffles and her long straight hair is brushed perfectly with matching white bows on either side of her head. Her legs and feet are covered in white stockings. Two tone saddle oxford shoes fit perfectly on her feet. Strangely the grains of sand seem to stay off of her almost as if she is levitating. She is clean to the point of glowing. The wind picks up a few strands of her brown hair and whips them across her face. She tucks them behind her ear and looks around with soft brown eyes large and vigilant. There is worry on her face. Her eyebrows are knit in a permanent state of concern. Her cheeks are stained with tears. She is trusting and kind, always wanting to please those around her so that they will love her. She is over sensitive and emotional. Vulnerable. There is a delicate, fragile nature that surrounds her. Even though she wears a smile, she is a frightened little girl. She seems lonely and suffocated at the same time. Her skin is like a newborn baby‘s, tender and easily bruised. She must be taken care of, protected. Behind her eyes you can see a pure soul who wants to run and jump and fly. Freedom is a word that she wants to skip down the sidewalk holding by a string like a balloon. Everyone tells her how beautiful her face is. Her name is Little Brenda.

Tall and strong. Head held high with piercing eyes of deep black. The grown woman stands like a statue. Her height is intimidating, even more so with the black boots that keep her feet planted firmly wherever she stands. She can usually be found atop a rocky cliff, guarded and wary of her surroundings. Her clothes are black, a mixture of leather and spandex. They cover her like armor. Her aura screams “fuck off” when you glance her way. In one black gloved hand she grips a knife. The other she keeps in a fist at her side. Her cheeks hold a slight scrape and a smudge of dirt. To her they are symbols of fighting. Her black lipstick and sharp chin are accompanied by her look of somber determination. Her short black hair frames a jaw that is tightly clenched as she glares out at the world around her. She is untouchable. She welcomes pain because it reminds her that she still has the capacity to feel something. She thinks about being brave, building walls, and being real. She is bold and her outer shell is impenetrable. She is ageless, timeless, limitless. The darkness soars through her like blood. Her icy exterior keeps people away. She prefers to be alone, keeping her emotions inside, tucked away and locked up with a missing key. She is a dark warrior who commands respect. Her name is Phaedra.

They exist on two sides of the same planet. They have never met before, though there is something familiar when their paths cross. They notice each other. For some reason, as hard and cold as Phaedra is Little Brenda does not fear her. Phaedra is not disgusted by the little girl as she usually is with such innocent sweetness. Phaedra circles Little Brenda, her knife still clutched in her fist always at the ready, but it hangs gently at her side. The small child eagerly watches Phaedra. Brenda’s desire to be liked feels like desperate nourishment.

A conversation unfolds.

Hello. My name is Brenda, what’s yours?

Phaedra.
Where did you come from?

The other side. How long have you been here?
I don’t know. A long time I guess.

How come I haven’t seen you before?
Maybe you chose not to.
Phaedra stops circling Little Brenda and stands still in front of her.

Perhaps you’re right. Have you noticed me before?
Not really. I knew you were there but I never saw you. It was just a feeling.

I guess I always felt you, but didn’t want to admit it.
What do you do?

Fight, protect, build walls, live in the darkness, seek out pain, hold it together so no one gets in. What about you?

I hug people. I laugh and giggle and color. I like playing outside. I’m open to anyone who comes by. I want them to like me.
 
Are you always so childish?
Yes, I’m a little girl. This is where I exist. Are you always so dark?

Yes, this is where I exist.
Do you protect me?

Of course I do. I protect everything that lives here.
Thank you.

Yeah, well, you’re welcome. I need to go back to the other side.
This does feel strange. I don’t know if we were meant to meet yet.

Too late for that. We have and now we know the other one exists.
What do we do with that?

We go back to our places and sit with it.

They both walked in opposite directions, each one carrying a small thought of the other, wondering if they will meet again one day and hoping they will be more prepared next time.