I’m haunted with terror as I walk down Dichotomy Street. There are these people I see, these people I meet. A girl with blueberry eyes and dark brown hair stops and throws me a grim glare.
I cry internally with fear, “What do you want?”
My tears turn to blackening blood as water unto wine. They cover my face, removing me of color. By sundown I will drown in the darkness, surrounded by her silent thoughts. She still stands there watching, waiting, but for what?
Her stare is a wall of pure concrete, I cannot see past it. Who is she? Am I deceived by her beauty for who she really is? This girl, this girl… She blocks my sight of the sign pointing me in the right direction. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to run but to go through Dichotomy Street.
Our cross examination has become a curious flirtation with the unknown. All we know is that we do not know. But at this moment I do not know that. Unaware of feelings, I feel only what I’m feeling.
I know what this is… I have felt it before. Always out the door down Dichotomy Street I never have the intention to greet. So I mistake this girl for every occupant opposite of me.
In reality she relates to me and I to her. I had let my worries step ahead of me, and my shadow stretched across the street. I have a lot to catch up to, and I am always in the wrong. This girl and I, we know we do not belong. But we will sing our victory song because we were not alone all along.