Am I a monster?
I have a vivid memory of a time not so long ago which birthed the bane of my existence. It was the end of a dreadful college day, nothing out of the ordinary, or so I thought. As I entered my college bus I had encountered an old friend of mine accompanied by her college companion. As my friend and I conversed for a moment, her friend had briefly interjected during which we had exchanged pleasantries. This was the beginning of the moment where something inside me shattered. She had told me that she had found me to be scary to which I felt rather insulted. Let me be abdundantly clear: we had never met before nor have I ever given her cause to think otherwise. I tend to bury myself in music, a fortress that keeps the harsh realities of this world at bay, drowning out the voices telling me I don't belong. Granted such a remark may be trivial, however I am no ordinary person.Paranoia follows my every waking moment, mistrust poisons my thoughts and self-consciousness remains a burden, heavy. I have accepted that I will only ever be labeled as a hideous monster, but this broke something inside of me. In that moment, I had come to the dull realisation that if an absolute stranger saw me to be something scary, this hideous thing, how dare I hold onto the hope of someone loving something like me. And the worst part is that I am afraid that she may be right. I see others experiencing a love that I will never know, and every time I am reminded that I will never look anything like those who have what I have always craved. That moment awakened something in me, an old warrior, scarred from battles old. I have walked through darkness, alone, for as long as I can remember and I have found comfort in my scars. Henceforth, I will forge a new path of my own, for the sole purpose of my survival in a world which will never see me as one of their own. I am my own monster and I shall do what is necessary to ensure my survival.