"The person you think you are, the person people think you are, the person you really are, and the person you want to be.
That's life pretty much summed up right there, and I'm here to do you a favour. In telling you that none of them exist. They're four parts to the simplest of complications that can have no function due to the unforgiving fact that they can never hold value to ever constitute variables added to equate a changing consequence accordingly. If they all did exist, that would make you a hypocrite. But if they don't exist, which take my word for it, they don't; then you're shit out of luck and wasting everybody's space and time.
Lovers? Husbands? Wives? Family? Friends? Sure, if that's what you want to call them. Reality would contend that, inside, they know just as well as you do that you're all merely in mutual agreement on not to call each other out on the lies you live by.
Consider. You had it all mixed up all these years. Enemies are indeed your best friends since they're the only reminder you recieve that you can't fool everybody with juggling between the four potentials. Way I see it, you don't hate your enemies because they don't like you. You hate your enemies because you can't have what they have: seeing you for who you really are: fractions of an unexisting entity. Challenging the sheer consideration of presence, let alone memories and experience.
There is nothing to be proven. It is already known. It's just a matter of how brutally honest one can really be with an imaginative oneself. Consider. The only reason you hold on to all your convictions of the validity and right of a single you, who and what you are, as if you are holding on to dear life, is because you are in fact holding on to dear life. Perspective-based, that is. Hence, reality is a notion that never actually realized in itself."