One Decent Leg

This is the time when things get deep. This is the time when I start thinking about the heartaches and the stressful moments that led to bad decisions. The texts I couldn’t unsend, the words I couldn’t unsay, the hopes and dreams I couldn’t take back—empty promises. Dreading the thought of having ever taken someone’s happiness and replacing it with sorrow.

 “That wasn’t me, it couldn’t have been, I’m not that kind of person.”

I lie to myself and pretend I’m not capable of hurting. I know the feeling too well to place it on someone else. If only it were true. If only I weren’t human, then I wouldn’t have that capacity. I’m a decent person. I don’t do it intentionally, I don’t do it because I want to, I don’t do it because I enjoy it. It just happens. Again, and again, and again, and again…