“I needed you once, but not anymore.”
                […]
                “So, she’s finally gone? Good for you. ‘Cause that Dark Mio? Total party pooper.”
                –Split Fiction

                My partner and I are almost done playing through Split Fiction. We’re loving it. But one scene from last week keeps making me shake my head. So yes, minor spoilers ahead.
                Split Fiction ends up sending its two main characters into their own subconsciouses (one after the other). In each subconscious, the two heroines fight some part of themselves. You can guess the parts: Fear. Anger. Guilt. The common “negative emotions” of storytelling worlds. Mio helps push a massive cyber scythe (it’s all robot themed! The whole game has very cool artwork) into Dark Mio’s angry guts. Mio says: “I needed you once, but not anymore.” A few beats later Mio’s friend confirms, “So, she’s [Dark Mio’s] finally gone? Good for you.” Everyone’s healing path is their own, and there’s a place for letting go of ways of thinking that aren’t helping. But for me, I guess, there’s a difference between letting go and actively trying to murder. There’s a difference between trying to get rid of and trying to make peace with.
                I’m thinking here about developmental psychologist Gordon Neufuld, who points out that people in the US and Canada are taught to rely on “cut it out” language with kids—stop hitting, stop yelling, don’t bite. Neufeld says cut it out just isn’t a very helpful instruction: if you’re angry, there is an urge to yell. Maturity (he says) comes not from murdering the angry voice, but from adding in a counterbalancing voice: remember that you love your brother. Remember that hitting hurts, and you don’t want to hurt your friends. Beyond that, there will be plenty of times when you do still need your anger, your fear, your guilt. Even if right now you don’t need them controlling your every move.
                In Scott Pilgrim vs The World, doesn’t Scott end up having to fight Dark Scott— and instead they talk, get to know each other, realize they can be friends? That story makes more sense to me. Or feels more sense. I didn’t want to kill Dark Mio. I wanted to make peace with her, and see how she and Mio could meet, listen to each other—whole, strong, compassionate, angry when they need to be, caring when they need to be.