The Masks That Monster's Wear

I am always the monster.





Never am I the hero, the knight in shining armor; the boy who ends up with the girl, the nice guy who wins out over the bully. I'm never the friend she realizes she's in love with; the guy waiting on the sidelines. That special person in her life? That isn't me.

No. Me?
I'm the saboteur. I'm the one who throws the wrench into a perfectly working machine; I toss the grenade in the fox hole full of my friends. I am the noose that hangs the pretty girl; the pyre that burns the innocent.
I break hearts because it's something I'm good at.
I am the fiend, the liar. I am forever the dark mark on the record.
I am the demon mothers warn their children about.
I am the traitor.

Nothing I build can last long. Nothing I do is the right answer. I'm stuck with a self-destructed heart, never able to let go of the things I've done...
I am despicable; shame, guilt, agony, these are my only friends.
Hesitation, desire, and lies; these are my weapons.

Every significant relationship I've had was destroyed by me, whether it was because I hesitated about what I wanted, I made a mistake, I was lazy and didn't want to put the effort into it, or because I thought I was in love with someone else. Or because I simply lied.

Every person I've ever loved hates me because I couldn't control myself.
I never stopped to think, "maybe this is worth fighting for." Instead I lit the fuse and watched it blow up in my face, taking all I wanted and loved with it.
Simply because I could. Simply because I didn't know what else to do.

My first love wasn't my first girlfriend.
She was the one who got us together.
I simply followed her advice and ended up with a girl I didn't care about because I thought it would make her happy. True, in the end I did care about the other girl; but I broke her heart several times trying to obtain my original goal. At the time I never thought it through, never saw the despicable lie I was telling myself every day. Someone amazing was right in front of me, and I thought I'd come to love her, but in the end I broke her heart because I wanted something more from a girl who was so much less. My selfish actions broke an amazing girl's heart, all for the sake of someone who ended up betraying me and costing me every friendship I had.
I thought rebuilding my life from the ground up would be sobering. Like, maybe this time I'd learned my lesson and could do it right.
But I was so wrong.
I did it again.
And again.


I torture myself with the memories. Constant reminders in my day to day life keep me in check. I'm never happy; always on the brink of some depression because of a choice I made.
My reasoning is this: I choose to remember, to open my wounds, thinking it might save my soul. Maybe if I recall why I did what I did, I can prevent someone from making the same mistakes. 

I broke my own heart, died a thousand times, and rebuilt a thousand kingdoms only to burn them down.
I do this because I am the warning.
I am the monster you should never become.