You don’t know anything about yourself or the people around you, and there is this one guy who seems determined to tell you what is true and what is real. He seems kind, and everyone he interacts with clearly loves him, so you trust him enough to follow him when he tugs you to an adventure you’re honestly not invested in.
We have to save the world, he says.
You nod and follow, and complain and everything but you are willing to be led by him.
He tells you what your name is, and you tell him what you think feels more true to you.
He makes a face, repulsed, and refuses to address you by your chosen name.
He looks at you with love in his eyes, but you don’t know him, and you don’t want his love. He wants you to be braver, stronger, kinder—like you used to be. But you are not who you used to be. You don’t know who you used to be.
And he can’t accept that. He won’t accept that.
He won’t accept you.
But he won’t let you go either.
When we fix the world, you’ll be fixed too, is what he basically says.
You hate that you have started to love him, because you know he can’t love you back. Not when every time he looks at you, he sees someone else.
You prove over and over again how you’re not strong enough, not brave or kind enough, though you really tried for a moment.
You leave him because you love him.
You leave him because he can’t love you as you are.
He finds you, though. He’s good at that. Finding you. He tells you that he will stop holding you to the standard he has been, but that he hasn’t given up. That he’ll restore your memories and how you used to be. That he’ll fix you.
You start to hope that he does fix you, so that he can love you truly, finally.
He leaves you to save the world, you stew, and then you go on to prove that you are…that you can be who you used to be. And you save the world, and he smiles at you so brightly and you see it before the magic washes over you and turns you into who you used to be.
