Of Elian

Or Eve, for short...

I'm not sure how to explain this without sounding like a pathetic, confused and moronic fool trying too hard...but take it or leave it. You're free to ignore, but please do remember what the name of this blog is. And I'll stop spamming your inbox with my rants after this for today, I swear...

I'm not sure how this all started. He was always what I considered to be my male, mature, darker and more defiant side. I gave him his name early, around ten years old, and back then called him "Me", and then later "ChoH', which stood for Child of Halloween in honor of my love of Halloween. Somehow, somewhere along the line I elaborated on him as I grew older, shoving all of the darker aspects and the part of me that clashed severely with my religion, etc, into him, sort of used it to shape his being. He had no religion, cared less of what others thought of him, and spoke his mind, even if it hurt others. He was my soundboard when I was lost, listening to me and telling me his side of the story to mine. Through him, I told myself this is just who I am. It can't be wrong...

Around 2007 -2008, I had shaped him into so much more than what he started off as, whatever that was, exactly. His name is Elian V. "Eve" Hollow, or E.V.E. Hollow for short, and my dearest, closest friend. There were even some times when I felt like him, clashing with my "good" self as Maryam. In-between conversions, I would catch myself beginning to talk the way he would talk, my mindset straying to that darker, twisted confidence I dared not show to anyone. For about three years afterwards, I would "lock away" his personality on and off, finding it easier to just type out my personification of him in chats than real life, because how would I get caught then, if people thought he was a real person instead of some utterly pathetic, lonely and self-conflicted young woman?

In 2009, during the worst of my depression, he became a person I took comfort in. I would talk to him often, but also mourn aloud the fact that he wasn't a real person. I would ask him, aloud, to talk to me, and would chat to him that I wish he were real. "I know" he would type in response. "I wish so, too". It didn't help that I  once had an emotional breakdown in the bathroom, unable to find the will to stand, and thought I heard him in my head, sounding just the way I always thought he'd sound. He told me, clear as day, to stand back up. And I did. Whether out of shock, or what, I don't know. But I'll never forget that time...

No, he hasn't spoken to me since. He's just what he's always been, my male, darker, more mature and defiant half. Now I suppose I just have to stop trying to reign him in...let him roam free from me, if you get what I'm trying to say. He is me, so I shouldn't be afraid or ashamed when I act like him, think like him...

...Honestly, I don't know what to think of him or how he came to be. But one thing's for sure, he sure as hell isn't going anywhere anytime soon...