So You Think I'm a Monster

So you think I'm a monster. You took the things that you loved about me, and turned them into ugly, horrible traits. You turned them into reminders of why we couldn't work. You turned them into reminders of why you're supposed to hate me. You turned them into reasons life is better without me, and that it's supposed to be that way.
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Two lovers captured in one of their most happy moment
Two lovers captured in one of their most happy moment

When people break up, grow apart or lose each other, they have to find a way to keep going. They have to make it acceptable to live without someone they thought they couldn't live without. They have to turn people into monsters in their mind. They make their hearts cold to that person, because if they don't, it doesn't make sense. If they don't, it hurts. It causes doubt, and doubt is poisonous to strength.

So you think I'm a monster. You took the things that you loved about me, and turned them into ugly, horrible traits. You turned them into reminders of why we couldn't work. You turned them into reminders of why you're supposed to hate me. You turned them into reasons life is better without me, and that it's supposed to be that way. Because we lost each other for a reason. Right? Because this is what's meant to be. Right?

My love for people and outgoing nature that you were immediately attracted to, now has become a shallow and desperate attempt for attention. My passion for life and love that struck you to your core, now seems self-righteous and arrogant. My work ethic that you used to proudly commend me on, now appears pretentious. When I try to reach out to you and tell you how I am, I'm now just bragging. When I care about how you are, it can't be real. When I try to be your friend, it must be fake. I must have a selfish motive. I've definitely changed for the worse. Nights out with my friends must consist of my making bad decisions and behaving recklessly. Trips must be a frivolous and careless waste of my money. Accomplishments must be just another example of my trying to be better than others. Everything I do, I do in vain. Because that's who I am, right?

It's easier to hate that girl.

My dear and special friend, I don't know what's meant to be. I don't know where this journey will take me. I don't know why it was so damn easy to sit in that little diner and fall in love with the light in the blue eyes looking back at me. I don't know why it was so damn difficult to hold on to it through life's adversities. I don't know why I met you when I did, instead of at a time that would have given that connection the chance it probably deserved. I don't know why it all happened. What I do know is who I am. I know that I am not the monster you have chosen to see me as. I also know that I forgive you for turning me into one, in your eyes. I made you into a monster at first, too. It can make it all easier, and I want that for you. What I don't want is for you to see me like this forever.

If you can, please remember me not for my flaws, but for the reasons you loved me. Though it doesn't seem like it now, they're what actually makes sense of it all. Remember me for the night we talked about the meaning of life while we watched the sun set over the trees. Remember me for the first time you kissed me and for all the times I picked on you for taking so darn long. Remember me for the times I was there for you and we shared secrets that no one else would ever understand. Remember me for the way my face would light up with excitement when I would see you, and my silly jump into your arms. Remember me for the times you were proud of me. Remember me for days spent on the lake in the sunshine, soaking up the beauty of being alive. Remember me for my senseless dance moves in the car that used to make you laugh so much. Remember me for the little moments. Remember me for the times I fought for you, and for us. Remember me for the good, because in life it's all we really have to hold on to. It's all we really have to make sense of situations that hurt us. It's how I remember you, and it's healed me.

So you think I'm a monster. And it's OK, because we all make monsters. But I promise you, I'm not. I'm still me. My intentions are still honest. My beliefs are still completely intact. I still take way too many pictures of my cat, tell long stories to strangers, drink an absurd amount of coffee and want to be friends with everyone, including you. I'm not hiding in the closet or under the bed, just waiting to tear you down, or tear your healed heart back open. I'm not hiding anywhere, I'm right here, just waiting until the day you and I can be friends. I'm not a monster. I'm just a girl, with a lot of words, and her hand outstretched in friendship, if you'll take it.

Sincerely,

All Of The Friends Hidden Under The Skin Of Monsters

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