"I Did It"

Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that I deserve this and whatever else is to come. Hate me and tell me that its for my own good. Kick me in the ribs so the pain is less emotional and more so a fiery, burning new bruise waiting to form. If I can see the scar, maybe then it will ache less. Tell me anything that could possibly make me hate myself more so the guilt goes away. If I can fool myself into thinking I'm a villain, if I can lie to myself and make myself believe that I'm a vindictive, spiteful, terrifying bitch, then maybe the disappointment that I feel for myself will fade. If I can expect myself to do something to violently awful, maybe then I won't have to suffocate on the thoughts of my betrayal.

I did it, and at the time I wasn't sorry. I won't lie to you now. I did it and it felt right. I did it and the wounds healed and the burning stopped. I did it and the echoes of my past ceased. I did it, and right then everything fell into place and for one single moment I felt alright with myself and the person that I was at that exact moment. And afterwards, when I should have felt sorry for you and angry at me, I felt okay with the choice that I had made. The fantasy was over, I had experienced the reality and it felt perfect.

I did it and it took a good while before I felt even the slightest twang of remorse or a lack of self respect. I did it and it took days before I saw any error in my actions. I did it and the walls didn't crash down for at least a month. I did it and when they came crumbling down, I felt every brick. I did it, I didn't think I could do it but I did it and now I've done it. I did it and I thought that it was only me in the doing, only me who was done. But it did it to you, I did it to me, I did it to both of us. I did it and now I'm alone, having done myself in for the doing of it. The it that I did, it did me in.