I knew the words, but they didn't sink in.

It's weird that I was thinking about it today. I don't even know what sparked it in my mind- no wait I do. I was following a car like the one her parents drive up the hill this morning. It's interesting to think of the way that I impacted the lives so many people. Yes, I realize how completely conceited and ridiculous that sounds. I guess the entire situation just proves that I am not a decent human being. It's not just the way I always put myself down in an effort to be pleasantly surprised. It's just the truth. Some people are good and some people are not. I'm just one of the people who isn't. And don't get me wrong, I've tried to change, I'm always trying to improve upon myself. Anyway, I'm straying from my point. I'm not sorry for what I did. I mean I guess I really shouldn't have to be sorry. I had no idea how many layers there were in the whole situation. But that's not an excuse, really.

Five months ago I came into the picture, knocking it off the wall. I fucked up their happy little fucked up world even more. Not a day can go by without he or I thinking of her. Her possessions still litter the apartment they once shared. Her scent still lingers in that stale air. Her impression has been made on both of us in different ways.

Still, though. When I let my mind wander to these places I feel a sense of power. And that's how I know that I'm not a good person, I'm just not meant to be a kindhearted individual. Meanness and spite are just embedded so deeply into me that I don't think I can change it. It's just how I am and how I am meant to be, niceness from me is foreign, often forced, and sometimes faked. It's like how you can look at a little kid. When you look into the face of a child you're supposed to see softness and innocence. But sometimes you just don't. You can tell when a child is mean-spirited, it shows all over their face. Adults learn to hide their true selves. But children, children can't. They're honest no matter what, even if they don't mean to be.