I think some of you believe I don’t have a conscience or morals. I do. I have a set of beliefs that guide my thoughts and my actions. They just might not be the same as yours. I also think that we’re not all that different.
I believe in
moral particularism – that there is no one philosophy that dictate your life
but, instead, you should make every decision on a case-by-case basis. I believe
that you have a duty to yourself before all others. I believe that some people
don’t deserve to die but death is the one true equalizer. I believe that
promises should be kept – unless they harm you in some way. I believe that
family and relationships are cultivated through trust and commitment. I believe
that when that bond is broken, it can never quite be prepared.
I have my
own set of beliefs but they are beliefs all the same.
I will lie,
I will steal, I will rip a man’s eyeball out of its socket and make him eat it,
but I will never cheat.
I don’t know
if I could describe to you what the real difference is between lying and
cheating. Both involve deception and a breaking of trust but one simply cuts
deeper when something is gained from that lie. There is something worse about
putting your faith in someone and seeing them throw it away.
I’m hurt.
My heart
hurts.
I just want
to kill something.
But I can’t
kill him.
I’ve tried.
That very
first night, I had a pillow millimeters from his face but couldn’t do
it. We were in the kitchen and he turned his back to me and it would have been
so easy to stab him but I couldn’t. I know for a fact that the tire iron in my
trunk can crush a man’s skull with two hits. A few pieces of broken bone lodged
in his cranium and he would be dead in about an hour. And yet when I went to
grab something out of the car, I didn’t grip the iron tight enough. So many
poisons I could have slipped into his coffee. So many accidents I could have
caused. I want to rip his insides out, hang them on the trees like Christmas
decorations, and then light his shell of a body on fire so I can toast some
fucking marshmallows. But I can’t light the match.
I’m very
good and killing, you know.
But I can’t
kill him.
He’s the
one person I want to hurt and I can’t do it.
Maybe it
was a mistake to get married. It was only meant to be as a cover anyways. It
was always a manipulation.
I’ve left.
Not forever – Casey knows where I am so she can contact me if there’s an
emergency – but just for right now. I can’t kill him but I can’t look at him,
either. My image of him is tainted now and I don’t know if I even want it back.
It was a
mistake.
A stupid,
horrible, painful mistake.
The man who
has been my partner for thirteen years and I don’t know how to look him in the
eye anymore.
I don’t
know what to do without him but I wish I could kill him. At least then it would
be over. Because right now, all I’m doing is feeling and I can’t…
I can’t
breathe from the weight of it.
I think
some of you don’t think I have emotions – that I’m somehow broken and that’s
why I kill people. You have no idea how much I wish you were right, dear
readers. Emotions seem to be all I have left right now.
My usual
sign off doesn’t seem appropriate right now.
But please
do stay safe, dear readers. Stay as safe as you can.
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