I woke up with my alarm, as I had every morning for the past two weeks.
Sitting up in my bed, I threw the sheets off me, dropped onto the floor, and started doing push-ups, even still half asleep.
It was part of my routine, one that I had adopted to help myself adjust and cope with, well, everything.
After 100 push-ups came 100 sit-ups.
By that point, sweat was pouring down my body in rivers, but that wasn’t a sign of exhaustion.
No, I had been working out long before my two halves had merged, needing an outlet for the regular stressors of life beyond being reincarnated.
Two halves.
That’s how I chose to think about the two identities that had merged to create me.
It turned out to be easier than I first thought, the Keeper hadn’t lied; my two previous identities were more similar than different.
Though sometimes I could still pick out a particular thought or habit that leaned more toward one identity than the other.
My older half, the one that had died and been reborn, also coincidentally named Adrian, was a selfish cynic who could give two shits about anyone other than himself, very much a scarcity mindset.
He was raised by an abusive father and narcissistic mother, both of whom blamed him for everything wrong with their lives.
Needless to say, never knowing the unconditional love of his parents had broken something inside of him from a young age.
As a result, he turned to crime early in his life, believing that everything he lacked could be taken, power, money, purpose.
All he needed was the strength and charm to rip it from the dying grasp of anyone who was unfortunate enough to have something he wanted
A full-blown psychopath.
That kind of mentality helped him flourish in the drug trade, quickly making a name for himself by being more cutthroat and ruthless than the rest of the lowlifes he associated with.
The problem was that at the end of the day, the drug trade was like any other business, one that preferred stability over volatility.
There were rules to be followed, and those who didn’t often found themselves dealt with.
Meanwhile, my other half Adrian Bennet…the one whose body I now inhabited and whose name I went by…was far more reserved, though that didn’t mean he was normal or typical by any stretch of the definition.
From a young age, he was diagnosed with OCD, ASD, and BPD a vicious combination of diagnoses that wouldn’t have been discovered unless the doctor who had tested his twin sister recommended to his parents that he get tested as well.
To some, it might have seemed like an obvious thing to do, but in his parents’ defense, Adrian managed to hide it well.
At a glance, he was just a nervous, socially inept kid, the awkward one in the class that really didn’t get along with anyone else and was perfectly fine with reading a book rather than playing on the monkey bars.
But the truth was that it wasn’t fear or nerves; no, it was annoyance and an almost painful apathy that kept him isolated.
It was hard to relate to kids his age when all their problems and cares seemed superficial at best.
So he kept to himself, becoming hyper self-sufficient, because in his mind relationships were transactional.
Having to rely on anybody meant that in turn they could and would rely on and burden him with their problems while he was already teetering on the edge between mania and depression.
A borderline sociopath.
If you asked me what you got when you blended the two broken mentalities together, I would have said the Joker, but it seems that I lacked that third special ingredient to turn me into a scourge on humanity.
Instead, it seemed that my two identities perfectly complemented each other, rounding out the highs and lows of the other’s disorders.
Though that didn’t mean I was a perfectly adjusted member of society, far from it.
Over the past two weeks, aberrant thoughts often popped into my head more than once, encouraging me with tempting promises of what could happen if I just stopped holding back.
Finishing my crunches, I stood up, threw on my running gear, and grabbed my workout bag.
Pushing my arms through, I put the bag on my back before tightening the straps so it wouldn’t bounce around during my run.
Leaving my room, I closed the door as quietly as possible before walking down the hallway, where I managed to reach the kitchen before I was discovered.
“Don’t forget your sister’s coming back today…it would be nice if you were here for her.”
I paused before turning to face my mother sitting at the kitchen table sipping on her coffee, “I probably won’t be back in time…I have a session with Ali.”
My mother narrowed her eyes, “Well then maybe you should skip the gym today and be here for Rue.”
“I’ve been going every day since the summer started…I don’t wanna break that streak.”
“Adrian, the clinic said it was important that when Rue comes back, she sees how much the people in her life care for her.
“Yeah, well then maybe it’s best that I’m not here then,” I muttered before turning around and marching out the door, ignoring my mother even as she shouted out my name.
Closing the door behind me, I stood on the front steps for a moment before letting out a long sigh as I put in my headphones, turning up the volume, hoping that the music could somehow drown out the frenzy in my head.
I let out a sharp exhale as I drove my fist forward and made contact with the bag, the synthetic leather cracking like a whip from the speed.
“You’re acting different today.”
I dashed back before switching my feet and turning my hips as my back foot came up and around, striking the bag with force, “You’ve been saying that for the past two weeks.”
“That’s because who you are as a person changed two weeks ago,” Ali muttered as he watched on from a distance, “Deny it all you want, but I’ve been watching you make peace with it this whole time.”
Dropping my fists and stance, I stood upright and faced Ali, “Then how is today any different?”
“Because you’re not struggling with yourself, Adrian,” Ali said as he looked me in the eyes, “Nah, something external is messing with you.”
I sniffed once before glancing away, “My sister is coming back today, and my mom asked me to be there for her…I ended up telling her that it was better that I wasn’t around.”
“Hmmm, talking back to your momma now.” Ali clicked his teeth in disappointment.
“Now I know you know better than that.”
“I just wanted the rest of this month to figure my shit out,” I muttered as I grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from my forehead before it could sting my eyes, “I can’t do that around Rue.”
“Why?” Ali asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“You know why.”
Ali smirked, “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”
I stared at him for a long moment before letting out an equally long sigh, “Because she was the one person I chose to open myself to, and she used that trust to hurt me.
So now my brain has an inherent bias against trusting anyone.”
“You see, two weeks ago I would have had to pry that out of you like I was pulling out one of your teeth,” Ali joked with a grin.
“Now is the part where you tell me I should go home and be there for her?” I asked as I rolled my shoulders.
Ali snorted, “Tell you what to do is pointless; I learned that on the first day we met.
No, what I can tell you is that my greatest regret in life is the fact that I get one, maybe two calls a year, if I’m lucky, from the people who mean the most to me and who I would do anything for.
There’s a difference between being by yourself and being truly alone, Adrian.”
“So what?
I should just forgive her and pretend as if nothing happened?” I asked sarcastically before shaking my head, “I’m not that good of a person, Ali.”
“No one is,” Ali replied as he reached out and patted me on my shoulder.
“We all need to be forgiven in god’s eyes, and maybe one day by his mercy we’ll be worthy of his redemption.”
“What did I tell you about that religious shit?” I muttered as I shrugged off his hand and rolled my shoulders again.
“You’re smart enough to recognize an analogy,” Ali countered.
“Now are you going home, or do you wanna hop in the ring and go a couple of rounds?”
I hesitated for a second before shaking my head, “Get your gloves on.”