3.41 - Destiny Deferred

3.41 - Destiny Deferred

I let my legs dangle freely over the ledge of the roof. Not too long ago I wouldn’t be sitting on a ledge like this because I was afraid. This is the same club I met Destiny at. It only seemed right to come here and try digesting everything that happened in the last few days. I’ve never contemplated suicide before, no matter how bad things got, and things are worse than ever this time around. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to do it even if the urge came to the surface. I always feel like things will get better if I just work hard enough. Out work everyone else, that’s how I’ve always made it through life; but there’s no clear way to work harder right now.

After the ambush, I witnessed my first Ogres, they were massive, like giants. Bigger than anything I’d ever seen, but mentally they were like savage children controlled by their hunger. We all moved to the top level and treated the wounded. Everyone else, well the Ogres just ate them. The entire bodies, just scarfed them down. When it was all done the group of mages, wizards, or whatever cast some kind of spell on them. They just followed orders and got into the back of a massive semi-truck and drove off. I didn’t bother asking anyone, because this whole Elder Scrolls chapter of my life is done. I assume the reason we never find bodies of magical creatures is that there are Ogre cleanup crews around the city, maybe some demon dogs or something. I don’t know, it’s none of my business anymore. I don’t want anything to do with it.

I tried to turn myself in. I’ve killed six vampires that nobody will be looking for, but I killed a human. I killed a person. Something like that massive battle can’t be covered up; someone should be asking questions. That’s what I thought, instead, the news covered it as a massive fight between different gangs in the city and an explosion caused by a gas leak. There were minor injuries, but no deaths, police are investigating. The whole thing just, got covered up. Nobody knows I killed this person, and I can’t even confess because there’s no evidence. I just have to carry this…this, this whatever it is with me forever.

All of this is her fault. I was just head over heels in love with her. Madly in love just means I was hopelessly blind, silly and dense to everything around me. I let her mess my whole life up. I’ve been missing days at work and ducking out early; now I’m on thin ice with the boss. I was willing to sacrifice everything for her. I almost died for her, more than once. I put myself in these stupid situations. She didn’t mess my life up; I did that to myself and what do I have to show for it?

Thirteen showers in the past four days and I still can’t wash this blood off of my hands. I still see it, the blood and brains on my shoes. No number of showers or wash cycles will wash this blood away. I could swim through Lake Michigan and still, this blood will not come clean. The water in all of the oceans would not wipe it clean. It’s almost as if I have become the blood, it’s part of me, and I am part of it. I understand that war is bloody business but my eyes were not ready to witness such horrors. I can’t believe I called this a war, that’s the same kind of nonsense that they were all speaking when seeking revenge. Revenge brings nothing but more violence.

This whole thing feels like I’ve been living someone else’s life this entire time I’ve been with her. I don’t even feel at home in my own home. I just can’t find any traces of who I was before. Despite that I don’t know if I can be without her in some way. My world has been altered to the point I can’t function the way I used to. I can’t pretend magic doesn’t exist, or my mailwoman isn’t an Elf, there’s an entire internet for this crap. As much pain and confusion as this has brought me, I don’t know if I can go back to a normal life again.

She’s just so damned hard to love. She rebukes any attempts at affection I try to make. Then she’ll turn around and pretend that I’m hers to own, like a pet. Does she want me in her life or not? She can tell me why I’m trash in the parking lot, then give Vicky death stares for having the nerve to share a drink with me. What the hell is wrong with her? I can’t read her, and any time I think I can she just changes the code on me. I need to just, separate from her and never go near her again. I should have broken up with her so long ago, or not tried to get her back. But I was just attracted. She’s beautiful, but that wasn’t it. No, I was attracted to the danger, the strangeness of it all. It was new, exciting, and I reached for it, and I got burnt.

No, none of that is my problem. My problem is the same thing it has always been. I’m afraid, of everything. I don’t want people to see the real me, so I just do what they expect. I’m afraid of just being me. Now, I’m just afraid that I’ve gone so far, I can’t go back to who I used to be. The thing is, I was afraid then too. I’m afraid of the future, I’m afraid of the past. I’m afraid of the past and I don’t know why. I’m not okay, and I afraid that it might be okay.

If I’m going to make it through this, I need to change. I need to make a promise. I won’t be afraid anymore. No, fear is good, it keeps us honest. No, I promise myself that if I don’t like something, I’ll change it. I promise I’ll always just be me, that’s all I can be. I promise I’ll accept things I can’t change, but only after I try. Yeah, I can do that.


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