For Me, knowing her wishes and dreams left a deep pit in the stomach. Myself believed in her, if only I believed in Myself, then we wouldn’t be in this sad predicament.
Myself tried to pretend things would all work out, but for Me falling for the facade wouldn’t get us anywhere. Things were falling apart without I, and rambling off more memories shared together only worsened our plight. We all needed to be reunited. And soon. Colors had lost their vibrancy, foods didn’t have flavor, everything was just blasé like life had failed.
Myself tended to sulk, thinking it was all useless, and that’s what threw Me into action; posting pictures, asking around for help. At least hope should be in our vocabulary.
Then one day I was spotted outside in the sun.
Myself shouted for joy but she disappeared about as quickly as she showed up, but for Me it was a sign. I wasn’t totally lost.
Over the next week, Me and Myself spent time soaking in the rays by either reading a good book on a blanket, or getting our hands dirty in the garden. Every time we were out there, I appeared.
And each time she stayed longer until all three of us were able to finally talk.
We came to the conclusion that life wasn’t worth living if we weren’t all in a partnership. No matter what happened, we had to stick to together through the good and the bad. So it was finally Me, Myself, and I again. And we vowed it would be us from then on.
I made sure we spent more time outside of the house where life was really golden; in the sun where the wind blew softly in our hair. Every now and then we would jam to the music and sing at the top of our lungs, every song that came on the radio. But more importantly, we laughed again.