“You’re the one that wanted to see what’s going on inside my mind, this wasn’t my idea.” I’d warned her, but she wouldn’t listen. No one ever listened. So, she’d insisted on the link, a small chip in her, another in me, and they talked to each other, and shared our dreams, our wishes, all the rest.
After a week, she was going all Fruit Loops on me, because of what she’d learned about me, and about the chaos I live with, and in, all the time. Every heartbeat, every breath, endlessly. “I did tell you I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
“I know. You did.” She looked at me like I was a complete stranger, someone she’d never met. “But I never expected anything like this.”
“You mean, you never expected anyone like me.” I don’t know why she didn’t slap me then, because I knew from that damn chip she wanted to.
She gritted her teeth, and I heard that chip screaming, “We have to talk! I have to fix you! Everything is all wrong!”
“What is all this?” She waved at her head, and then at mine, where I chips were. “What is all this stuff?”
“It’s the me I don’t show.” Yeah, that summed it up nicely. “The me I don’t let anyone see, because I know they can’t live with it.”
She started to talk, but I cut her off, “You know damn well there are reasons I take Prozac every day.”
It’s Week 432 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Something I may have to write. Something much bigger than 250 words. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who show up every week.