The Death of a Fragmented Self
Why hast thou slain thy former self, save for the truth that he could not free himself to become the man I stand as now? And yet — behold — here thou liest as well, impaled upon thine own contradictions. What became of the man who called himself free, yet lies more trapped and lifeless than ever before?
Thou hast seen the error of thy ways: it was never freedom, but a reckless abandonment — a blindness where once thou wert cautious. Upon discovering this, thou didst realize thy path betrayed both the man thou wert and the man thou sought to become.
How could I not cast off that lesser self, if lesser he truly was?
Yet why must either self be deemed lesser? Can they not both exist — one to read the signs she sets before thee, and one to stand courageous in the face of love? Didst thou not fail precisely because thou didst forsake one half and so doomed the other?
Thou wert once whole — and in pursuit of flesh disguised as love, thou reduced thyself to half. And now that thou hast chosen true love, thou findest she clings only to flesh.
The discord was believing thou must shed one side to gain her. In truth, thou shouldst have rejected her altogether — or else bid her cast aside her destructive nature to walk with thee. But instead, thou chose destruction… and now destruction hath taken thee wholly.
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