They are the only ones who know me. I am the only one who knows them. Two different people with abstract lives, and brown hair just like mine. Two who do not get along, but are still here. Two households connected by highways. From my mind I can see them, but Megan just stays locked away and chooses sides.

Their aspirations are secret. They send messages between them daily. They raise me up, and push me down, and turn me in their right directions, sometimes the same other times not. This is how they play.

If I were to forge a reason to be together, they would quarrel like rutting stags, searching for a sweet lie to escape. Sleep, sleep, sleep they say when I ask. They resign.

When I am too frustrated, and too mad to keep sleeping, when I am a voice in the dark in a lighted room, then I remain “asleep.” When I have nothing left to say to them. Two who grew together for me. Two who fight and always disagree. Two whose life is for Megan, and me.