>>14110010Imagine fucking striking her face right there while her guard is down. Imagine inflicting so much pain to her that the thing that makes her cry is not the actual hit, but the idea of my breaking her laughter, breaking her joy, breaking her trust. That's right, pretty girl, I am not a good person. I hurt people. I ruin days. Think of all the fun we could have had had I not punched you. Continued to talk, joke, walk, have a good time through and through. You would go home happy and develop a positive sentiment towards me. You'd think of me several times per day whenever you experience something you and I both enjoy, or whenever you're generally happy. That reality is not meant to be. I have to remind you that I am not who I appear to be. All this time it was a mask and now I cast unto you my true face. Oh, you're crying?! Well then, have another. Does it hurt? What hurts you more - the punch, ruining your perfect face; or the fact that I interrupted your high levels of joy, ruining your perfect streak of happiness. This could have been a boring day, a day you would soon forget because it was like any other. Instead, you will remember this day for a very long time because of what I did to you. You will no longer associate me with good times and laughs, but with tears and pain. What sets apart a tear of joy from a tear of sorrow? Pure context of the situation. You will spill tears of sadness. You will forever be scarred if not on your smooth, beautiful, perfect little face, then inside your brain. Every time you think of me, you will remember that my penultimate intention is to hurt you. I will lure you in with nice things and finish you off with unspeakable acts that leave you in sorrow. I am sorry that I am like this. I have trouble bonding with people. It's best we part our ways now, I must not get too attached to anybody. I could hurt in worse ways. Forgive me, I am a confused man.
