Have you ever cried yourself to sleep without knowing why? Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror and be unable to recognize yourself? Well I have, I know what it is like to die and rot from the inside. The pain is great and the sad part is you do not get to die, you live on, you get to watch the world go by in slow motion, you watch people be happy with the full knowledge that you will never get to know what it is. Hate has become a part of me, I destroy literally everything I touch and in the end nothing ever works out, they all stay dead and I have to watch them break like glass in my arms. I wish I had stayed in the shadows, maybe that is where I really belong. I am not the type to seek sympathy, I hate it when people feel sorry for me, I despise everything that has purity in it, but not her. She had taught me how to love, how to hold onto something carefully. Her lovely green eyes had looked into my dark soul and I thought she would be the one constant thing in my life.
As a child I had been in love with reading silly fairy tales, that may sound like a girl's hobby but I was proud of it. I loved how they all ended, the prince would find his Cinderella and they would live happily ever after. I used to fantasize about my own happy ending, about true love, happiness and belonging. I'll admit that a part of me still wishes that were true.
I guess I have always been different, even as a child I hated crowds, hated being around others and I remember my mother taking me to see a therapist who had promised her she would solve my 'problem'. I still remember her face, she had chubby cheeks, firm hands and she was rather pale in a lovely way. I was seventeen and hormones were raging, I thought I loved her and she made me believe she loved me. When you are seventeen any woman who lets you touch her she becomes the centre of your world. I became addicted to her. I would sneak out at night to go be with her, I thought I knew her(I did know her biblically though). That was before she turned me into a monster then broke my heart.
I had a weakness o trusting people more than they deserve, a part of me still suffers from what I love to call the myopia of pollyanna.
I am the kind of person that tries harder, I never give up, I have never given up, not even in death. The problem however was I was never good enough for anyone or anything and I could never get used to that sad fact. The problem with reality is it always disappoints us, reality is not fair. My mother was a very religious woman, I was a religious person too and I loved to blame my problems on God. I would stay up all night crying, begging God to take me, to destroy me. I have always been a coward, I did not have the courage to man up and face reality as it was. Mother used to hold my hand and pray with me every time she heard my soft sobs. I am still angry with the universe for giving that great woman me for a son. She deserved the best. She was the first to die in my wicked hands. I held her after I had drained all the blood in her veins and for the first time I saw who I truly was; a monster... Life to me has been a sad tale, full of regrets, pain anger and a lot of misery. I know what it is like to destroy what I love the most, I know what it is like to try and fail, I know what it is like to hate, to have no one but yourself to blame.
IHaveNoName likes this.
You need to be logged in to comment