I should be alone.

My body, all of who I am, and sometimes I fear even my soul, is plagued. I know this isn't by my own doing or by my own hand, but by a forced one. That still doesn't change what it makes me. A person who gains an illness from another still has the illness. And if they don't seperate themselves, they will pass on the pain and the hurt, even without trying.

I don't want to hurt people, and I would never hurt someone like my father did, but I can still hurt people through my selfish actions. My selfish, greedy need to spare myself pain by latching onto others for relief. The moment I release that foul story from my lips, I spread the poison. I knowlingly, greedily, and selfishly pass it on to them. Those thoughts, my stain. I am selfish. It makes me feel a little bit better, lighter. But in the process I bring each person down. I become a villian.

I become the thing that my father and my bad dreams are to me. I become the villian in all of their "safe rooms" within themselves. I am the one lurking in the dark, spitting out curses and tales of hurt and filth.

If I would just be alone, it would solve all of this. I could take all the pain myself, like I should. If only I could get my greedy hands off of other people's hope.

I wonder what it would feel like to not be so sure of something so horrible. Something so devasting to my heart. People say it's not true, but I feel as if even the best evidence couldn't ever be enough proof. How can you dissovlve the truth in something that is as constant as the ripples in the ocean or the flow of air in the skies? How can you even let yourself form doubt that something like this isn't true, when you know beyond every doubt and with absolute complete, and utterly crippling certainty that it is true?

I should be alone.