Excerpt: dimorfia

Now I've done it. Of course I just had to pull that Wolfland-card again. Is there really no other chance for me to survive on this globe? Every single time I keep falling into the same, familiar rabit hole and I don't even blame myself for it - at least, not that much. But I really, honestly should give this option up. I did that, almost four years ago. I thought that it would have been the end of this. Yet, here I am again, loving the gentle arm around my shoulder and the other one petting my head. I feel so useless.
Can I really use him like this? It must be painfull for him. Not only do I refuse to believe that he is my very own blood-relative, but also I keep hoping that he and this whole world that I've once again entered would simply disappear. That my past would finally let go of my present. The dream must end, for the future to continue on.

His breath feels so nice. Why can't I stop crying? I want to tell him that I'm sorry and that I've missed him and all the other things he must be dying to hear as well. If only I could take him with me and not hurt him so much. If he would be able to join me and my every day life, but of course that is not possible. Even I have read enough fantasy to know that is not an option for any of us - he could not cope with my world and I can't cope with his. Ours. Made by me - I'm so sick.

I pushed my hand forvard to make him let go of me even though he was the only thing I wanted to hang on tight right now. He understood my speachless message, of course, and gave me my own space back. I felt so lonely there.

"What is the matter, my dearest sister?" He popped out a question that I wasn't expecting. It made me shiver. He was thinking, feeling. I had felt the tears from his eyes on my shoulders as they got wet and yet I hadn't reacted to it as I should have. The amount of troubles was increasing. Foolish, inconsiderate me. Had he come up other with other things as well? Was I that forlorn? When I had been here last time it was always me who controlled this universe. I'd created it, I'd forged it. Every being in it had been mine to use as I pleased - which of course had been very unfair. I had been a tyrant, a spoiled child with nothing to block my imagination. I had played God and this must be my punishment.