in the story of my life, i am the villain. the worst kind of it. the sugar-coated-poison-pill kind of it. there’s an evil inside of me and i can’t get it out. guess it’s gotten inside of me when i was five or six, when i had that nightmare.
i can remember it so clearly. from all of my childhood memories, only this one i can recall vividly. i was having a nap that day, and i saw myself on the bed screaming and kicking when my mom entered the room. i said “blood! i’m bleeding!” and refused to let my mom comfort me. my dad then carried me out to the living room – i was still floating watching myself curled in his arm – and only when he started to talk i got sucked back into my body and i could speak for myself. but i couldn’t remember anything i dreamed of. since then, i haven’t been the same person.
this thing inside of me, it’s strong. it knows what it wants and uses me to get it. most of the time i have no control. i can only watch as it breaks and shreds people i care about. it consumes on love, hope, and all beautiful feelings in the world. it swallows them whole and spit them out as muck, making people feel worthless and unwanted. you see, how bad it can be to be me? i dismiss people’s love but at the same time feel like i break myself inside too. my little weak self curl somewhere in the corner of my own battered heart while this evil thing turn away everything and everyone i want in my life.
i’m scared to fall in love again or even let people fall in love with me. i start locking myself in my apartment and cutting myself from the world. i’ve hurt enough. but something inside me keeps longing for something. the evil thing is digging a hole inside my heart that asks to be filled. a void that can never be filled. an endless hunger.
maybe if i try and vanish from the world it will be gone too?