A Story To Tell: A Night Out With My Split Personality

That's right I had a schizo moment. A moment in time where I felt like I had a second personality. One mind says it loves you while the other mind is busy plotting on the young lady in the black leggings and purple top.

I try to resist the urge to approach this lady, but my second personality is telling me how much I want and need her. My other personality's name is Richard, but he likes to call himself Dick. I'll never call him that...

Me: "But what about the woman I love?"

Rich: "What about her? If your love was as strong for her as you let on, we wouldn't even be having this conversation".

I'm telling this story because it seems like many men seem to have this disorder. You see we are born with two heads and even though only one of them has a brain, the other one is determined to get some brain. However, no matter how scholarly one head becomes, we cannot seem to outsmart the other head. And so the conversation continues...

Me: "Why do you always do this, you know we're committed!"

Rich: "WE? You Mean YOU committed, I was just there to seal the deal, I have a bigger question though. Why do you always resist? You try to act civilized and proper, when I know you better than you know you. This is what you want and it's what you need, so let's go for it, I got your back!"

So against my better judgement I engage the foxy purple cladded mistress, and in her drunken stupor, she mistakes my nervous smiles and stuttering speech as a swagger filled compliment fest, much to the joy of my other personality! The night ends when she's introduced to my "other half" and although he does have a way with women, I sometimes wish he'd shut the hell up!

After the deed is done, there is silence, like the woman's body was a temporary fix for my condition even though I know after a sandwich and a nap, he'll rear his ugly head once again. For the moment, I begin to relax because there are no words from Rich. However, it seems that fate dealt me a two-seven off suit after I went all in because at that moment, the door bursts open and in walks the love of my life, but it seems like she too has a split personality because the warm, loving person whom I adore, is cold and hard... much like the blade that fits so snugly into her hand.

Me: "Honey wait! It wasn't my idea! It was Rich's Fault! Tell her Rich!"

Now the once bold and blaring Rich was as quiet as a mouse and once again, left me holding the "short end of the stick". F*ck! Richard, you did it to me again... At this time, I'm standing there; eyeing the silver blade in my love's hand, when a funny thing happens, a smile comes across her face.

Love: "Oh... Richard huh? Well I have the cure for your split personality... just think of me as the therapist and this knife as the medication, this will be a brief therapy, it'll only be one session and trust me, when you leave this room, you'll only have ONE personality to worry about."

The Doctors did all they could, but Rich was pronounced dead at 3:02 A.M.

R.I.P. Richard

-Roderic