Created from Two

I never knew who I was. My face is a mask, hiding who I could have been. It doesn’t reflect the truth; it’s just a convenient disguise to hide behind. Sometimes I feel like I’m not a person at all, but the result of someone else’s desire. My father’s desire, perhaps, or something greater—something more powerful and inexplicable. Opposing forces coexist within me. Good and evil, light and darkness, God and the devil—they all intertwined to create me. And I don’t know to which origin I belong. Perhaps I’m their shared experiment, a strange balance they forged in one being.

Inside me, I feel this struggle raging, but on the outside, there is only silence. No bright emotions, no storms—just calm. Sometimes I wonder: what does it mean to be woven from two worlds, from heaven and hell? Maybe that’s why I can never truly know myself. All I do is try to understand who I am. But I don’t control my life—I merely follow the flow they chose for me.

One day, as I stood in front of the mirror, I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked at my reflection, at this mask that seemed to mock me. I asked myself: what lies behind it? I leaned closer, as if trying to see the real me, and at that moment, the mirror cracked.

Through the web of cracks, I didn’t see my face—I saw another world. It called to me, offering the answers I had been searching for. I reached out and touched the glass. It shattered, revealing a passage.

I stepped through and found myself in a place that defies description. At first, I was surrounded by light. It was blinding but warm, wrapping around me as if trying to say something. Images floated through the light—faces of people I didn’t know and places I’d never been. Each image evoked a feeling, as though I should remember them, but couldn’t.

Then the light vanished, and I was plunged into darkness. It was cold and thick, like dense smoke. Here, I felt fear—not external, but the kind that had lived inside me all along. Figures began to emerge from the darkness. They accused me of things I didn’t even know about. They said I was a coward, that I had rejected my destiny, that I didn’t deserve to live. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t—my feet felt rooted to the ground.

I don’t know how long I spent in that place, but at some point, I stopped resisting. I just stood there and listened to their words. And then I realized: they weren’t my enemies. They were me. My fears, my doubts, my pain. Everything I had tried to ignore was now standing before me. I accepted them, and the darkness began to dissolve.

That’s when I understood: everything lives within me. The forces that created me are contradictory. I am part light, but I am also part darkness. Within me are heaven and hell, two origins that seem incompatible but have somehow become one. I am their product, their balance, and I’ve carried this within me my whole life without understanding what it meant. And now, having accepted it, I began to see: my existence is not a mistake. It is complex, imperfect, but it is mine.

When I returned, the mirror was whole again. I looked at my reflection and, for the first time, recognized myself. My face hadn’t changed, but I understood that something more lay behind it—myself. Yes, I still didn’t know exactly who I was. But now I knew one thing: my life is not someone else’s experiment. It is a path I must walk on my own.

And perhaps one day, I’ll discover why I was created. Or maybe I won’t. But for now, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m no longer afraid to look in the mirror.