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Through being with my mouse, I had learned that to love another human being was complex. However, to love a woman with two different people living inside of her. . .that defied all logic.
I have to do something.
Here in this shower, I realized that my heart was torn in some ways between Emily and Lunita.
Of course I yearned for my mouse to fully heal. I would never dispute that. And clearly, I would never want Lunita to take over and fuck anyone else again.
But. . .fully getting rid of Lunita. . .was that the only answer?
And how could I talk to my mouse about it, without her exploding into pain and hurt?
I watched her clean, not sure of how to approach the conversation.
Emily—the woman to whom I had pledged my future with—was a beacon of light and resilience.
Yet, there was also Lunita, an integral part of my mouse’s identity. A twilight murderous persona that exuded her own odd charm.
Emily desired complete healing.
But what would that mean?
Would it be the unification of her supposed fractured self?
And if that was true, would that mean Lunita would dissolve into nothing?
Hmmm.
Meanwhile, I had grown to love both facets of my mouse and could not imagine any part of her disappearing. . .even the psychotic, gardener-fucking part.
Emily moved her focus to me and began smearing liquid soap on my chest.
I watched my lovely mouse as she cleaned me.
In the end, I would do whatever she wanted.
But I must at least say something. . .for Lunita. The other part of her.
This predicament felt akin to standing at the edge of an existential abyss.
Was love not about acceptance of the person in their entirety?
I had put a ring on Emily’s finger which meant that I accepted all of my mouse’s imperfections, idiosyncrasies, and complexities, just like she had accepted mine.
If so, would Emily’s decision to erase Lunita be a rejection of a part of herself that I had grown to love? Did I not have the place to argue the other side before she did it?
And yet, wasn’t my duty as Emily’s future husband to support my mouse in her pursuit of wholeness and peace, even if it came at the cost of losing Lunita?
These questions gnawed at the fabric of my mind.
It wasn’t about choosing Emily over Lunita, or vice versa. Both were intertwined in a dance as old as Emily herself. Their existence was so inseparable that I often wondered where Emily ended, and Lunita began. To love Emily was to love Lunita, and to lose Lunita felt like losing a part of my mouse.
And yet, I knew, beneath the turmoil of my feelings, that this was not about my emotional maelstrom.
It was about Emily.
Her wellbeing.
Her happiness.
