The Alter Ego

I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I’m smart, capable, and most importantly, I’m free in all the ways you wish you could be.

Tyler Durden, Fight Club (1999)

If you’re what you read…

“I’m manic depressive. The bits of me that make me special – made me special – are just part of my illness. Who am I now? I’ve always thought that I am what I do. I am all my memories of myself. But now that’s been taken away from me, the good times and the bad times. The times of feeling so low I wanted everything to end, and the times of feeling I could do anything, fly high, all the wonderful times I’ve had. Now I think that wasn’t me, not the real me. They were all just symptoms.When I’ve behaved badly, when I’ve behaved well, it was just because of a chemical imbalance in my body. It’s a great excuse but I don’t want it. I want to be me. Me being bad, me being good, me being me.
I wanted to be hugged tenderly, to be held carefully, so that I didn’t break again. I lay in my bed, which felt like a fragile boat tossed on towering waves. I closed my eyes and felt the waters suck me under.”
“I knew it would never be quite like this again, whatever happened between us. If it was going to carry on the way I wanted, maybe we could get to a stage where – unimaginably – we would stop thinking about each other all the time, where we would go a day, two, three, without sex, where the other one would be just a familiar part of the furniture. But not now. Now we were endlessly curious about each other… Every day was tantalizingly short because, whatever happened in the future, this intensity and energy would fade. It would have to fade so that we would be able to become normal people again, normal lovers, or partners or, perhaps, just friends, or maybe strangers once more.”

From a book I loved, five years ago.
Catch Me When I Fall, Nicci French