Monsters
She believed in me in a way no one ever has and no one else ever will, and I have betrayed her. The worst part is…she doesn’t know. She still thinks I am “the one”, the one who will love her forever, build a life with her, wanted to raise a family with her, the one to grow old with her.
But I always knew differently. I wasn’t any good. I was broken. Thoughts of anger and despair always occupied my mind. I wanted to spread the hate within me to the world outside of me. Take out my anger, my disgust, my failures which I feel every day, and pour it onto others.
I am ashamed of who I have become; of who the person before me made me become. I always knew I held darkness inside, a fierce, angry creature lived deep in my soul. For a while I could ignore the beast, pretend he didn’t exist, push him way down into my soul, away from my heart, and out of my mind.
She helped me do that. Her love, her compassion, her gentleness, had sealed the monster in the darkest recess of my soul. Her kindness and her humanity filled my heart, ignoring and starving the beast. We were happy together; we had spent our days together ignoring him, though at times – just barely keeping the monster under control.
Our life together was perfect. We enjoyed our adventures together. We trekked all over the United States, ambled long the tree lined paths of the plantations of Natchez, Mississippi; hung out on the wrought iron balconies of the French Quarter in New Orleans; played in the sparking white snow of a Minneapolis winter, and enjoyed eating fresh grilled lobster, caught along the sunny beaches of Ensenada, Mexico. When we decided to be married, we naturally chose San Francisco as our honeymoon destination.
As we wandered hand in hand along Fisherman’s Wharf, watching the sea lions and harbor seals sun themselves on the floating docks and bark their discontent at the seagulls, our togetherness kept us innocent. We enjoyed the ferry ride over to Alcatraz Island and hiked the hill into the prison museum. Listening to the audio tour on our headsets and the stories of the men previously imprisoned there, I had stepped inside one of the open cells, joking with her, “Perhaps this is where I belong?” I laughed at my words but the dark feeling, the sinister voice of the heartless creature buried within, was stealing my thoughts.
Now…as I remember her agonizing, recent funeral and picture her in her final resting place; I am lost. I only see the garbage before me, the haughty, tanked-up drunk driver that put her there. His arrogance took her away from me. His bad choices roused the pitiless monster within me. Standing over him, the pistol still warm in our hand, the monster finally had his say.
Yes, I should have stayed at Alcatraz.
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