The Other Side.

 

 

What am I hiding, you really want to know?

Ok, here’s something for you.

 

Don’t ever hold on to anyone that you couldn’t visualize yourself one day throwing away.

Love is just a lie that you tell yourself.

 

What?

You weren’t expecting that?

You thought there was a “Kind and Caring” guy under all the armor?

 

     I was in a restaurant the other day, and a beautiful woman walked by. Her perfume lingered around my table. I caught myself thinking about how angelic she looked. But then, inexplicably, her scent that had once attracted me, now infuriated me. I got up and moved my table outside. Out there under a sky of cold grey death, the only perfume was car exhaust and bum piss…I could finally eat again.

 

It’s amazing how the sight of a beautiful woman can ruin my day.

 

     One of my friends said I was just bitter. I had to inform him that true bitterness, reflects the result of when expectation meets reality. He didn’t get it. When he gets a woman, he will.

 

What?

Are you unhappy, well you’re the one who begged to hear it.

You wanted to see the other side of the moon, the “dark side”.

What did you think was hiding back there?

Sensitivity, Love?

 

Love is the strands of silk a spider weaves.

Love is many headed and twisted. It waits to eats souls on lips of crimson rose petals.

No… all we got in stock is rage, bitterness, and hate.

A Hate that you couldn’t believe.

A Hate that can see for miles.

A Hate as pure as sunshine.

 

That’s all that’s waiting on the other side, and that’s why I’ve never shown it to you.

 

     See, I’m really a nice guy, I’m doing this as a service. But don’t ever think I'm actually on your side. Remember, it’s not “Us” and “Them”, it’s “You” and “Them”.

I’m one of “Them”, and they’re everywhere.

 

But I’m the only one of them with enough decency to stay the hell away from you.

 

They’re out there hunting for you, at the clubs, the bars, church…

     It doesn’t matter to them, they just want to bag the prize, you were just in the cross hairs this week, next week it’ll be some other doe-eyed creature. They’re all really just a bunch of animals with credit cards.

 

How do I know? Because I used to hunt with them.

 

     I grew sick of the long nights on the prowl. The girl, who two hours ago seemed so witty and interesting, now is lying next to you, a living embodiment of disappointment. Before the nights over you’re using her body to masturbate with instead of your own. You feel as much passion for her as you do a house plant. But you grab your things before sunrise and get out. Hopefully you don’t see her next week when you do it all over again.

 

     That’s when I figured out who I truly was, and stopped playing the game. That was right around the time I met you. But that’s also why I’m over here, and you’re over there, and we’ll never be together.

 

Because I know what I am.

 

     I’m abusive. I don’t know when it starts, or where it comes from, I don’t work well up close. I'd never hit you, but I'd make sure that you suffered so much worse.

     I never want to hurt you, but I know I would.

     I wouldn’t know when to stop either, I never do.

 

      So that’s it, your little peek into the side we don’t show you, hope you enjoyed it…

Lock the door on your way out.