And though I'm trying to behave like a grown-up woman and accept what I did to reach such end, I can't resist to try and deny everything (like that old episode of The X Files).
No wonder denying is one of the stages of mourning, according to Dr. Kübler-Ross. No wonder that must have been my attitude in the last year of that life, while I stayed in prison claiming I was an innocent woman, hoping they would be as blind as they were the last time...
Among the lawyers, I remember a young man who believed in me. I also remember an older one who always had that look in his eyes, the one that said "You're an evil monster and you're going to burn in Hell". The first time I could talk about mistreatment, even when I wouldn't be believed. Husbands are always more reliable than hysterical women. But now that young woman was also dead, I would deny any relation with her, I went into hiding and anyway I managed to kill all the innocence that was left in her along the way. So my only excuse to behave like I did was also gone. It sounds a bit ironic while I write.
I can't stop wondering when exactly I became that monster... if I ever was, of course. I'll also deny that. I'll deny everything. I'll deny I ever killed someone just out of scorn, or only because someone told me he was like my first husband. I'm not sure about the reasons, anyway. But I'll deny all those reasons just because I'll always deny I ever killed someone. Let them prove it if they can. Surely the poison got there by accident.
I know I destroyed myself. But right now I don't want to say that. I prefer to say he destroyed me. My guide reminds me the truth, but I tell him "fuck off" (no worries, we get along overall). He's not the one who got unjustly hanged. For now I'll deny that was a fair trial. And I'll keep denying what I did was wrong.
Call me mad if you want to.
No comments:
Post a Comment
You are welcome to leave a comment, unless it is offensive. These won't be published. Thanks.