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Life is too short for boring stories

Sarah and Jonas Wegener had accompanied me home, until they had brought me to the front door before they said good-bye to me, so that I could greet them again the very next day. I had prepared tea and cake, the fire burned in the fireplace as the couple entered.

 

During the next few days, I could spend a lot of time with the two, getting to know them, but still more of their relationship. There was a special connection between the two, something I could not quite unravel. They experienced differently, but the difference could be made into a common image, not to be integrated, by a facet being extinguished, but by being allowed to exist side by side, equally. What I was allowed to experience was an expansion, precisely because they were allowed to live their own personality. Yes, they also had differences, disagreements, and yet the bond between them did not burden them. It was like a stone that was in the way, and they pushed together side by side to find each other again.

Harmony, I found out, was not a question of symbiosis, of co-ordination, but of one’s will to grow and become. More and more, this kind of co-operation became the center of my thinking, and my thoughts of Barnabas moved farther and farther away, until I found him one day in a small storeroom. I could not even remember putting him down there.

 

„No, you do not do me well,“ I told him, after I had fed him with coins, „You with your mere reflection of myself. You are nothing but my narcissistic counterpart, the personification of my solipsism.“

„Was not that exactly what you wanted, someone who strengthens and praises you and sums your honey around your mouth, who supports you and everything you want?“, he asked.

„Yes, probably it was what fascinated me so much at the beginning. How uncertain and unstable I must have been, at that time, denying real relations, because I thought the dispute ached, „I replied.

„But it does. People come, people go, and they hurt you, break your heart. I do not do that. I’ll stay with you, forever and ever, „he tried to flatter me, but it almost sounded like a threat. I felt coldly running down my spine when I thought I was actually thinking that it would make me happy in the long run with my reflection.

„You are scaring me,“ I replied, „If my future looks so, it would have been better if I had thrown myself out of the rocks into the sea.“

„Oh, you must not see that. Think of the many happy hours we have spent together. This will always go on like this. Forever, we will be happy, „he continued,“ forever we will be together. You will not let me go. „And his tone was no longer nice, no longer friendly, but sharp and piercing. But in a few seconds the coin had to be exhausted and he would finally hold his mouth. But then I had to watch with horror, that he pulled a coin from his pocket and threw it into himself.

„You’ll be happy with me, whether you like it or not, and if we both go under it,“ he threatened.

„I can no longer be happy with you,“ I tried to explain, „for happiness, the true, living happiness, can only exist between two equal, independent, self-contained human beings. You’re just a doll after all. I’ve known it. “

And there was the knife in his hand. Slowly he stood up and walked towards me. Instinctively, I backed away from him, but where could I flee, where I could hide?

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