Somewhere along the line, I must have been paid a visit. I was unaware, if it be true. Or perhaps I laughed at him and my payment is to wonder, his face unknown to me because he only visits those who are alone.
I remember the seduction. It was in my own bed. The crowning glory of my girlhood memories still as vivid as the moon against blackened sky. I fell to my knees in this dream waking to have no hatred for his ills. I simply thought, I do not believe.
I do question my impregnation filled with desire for repeat visits, holding this as a template for all those to come. Devil may care. I lived a life of virtue, or at least held the thought dearly to my bosom like some foolish imbecile waiting to be smacked around in this world.
As I cave to be like others, I wish to be unfaithful to myself. I want to be a sadist who no longer grieves. I have longed for retribution and a vision to strike those who have ripped me from the illusion I have created in my own head. I wish only to be free from emotion now. The further I walk, the closer I become to this monster with deadened heart.