07-28-08| 2:08 am
I am going to write this because I have to. I am not proud of it but this is non fiction. One for the memoir.
They say the line between love and hate is thin and I'm beginning to think it is drawn in blood. A slash of red filled with the DNA that taught me how to be so exquisitely cruel.
Without raising my voice or batting an eyelash I sent you hurtling over the edge. Events unfolding in slow motion like a car accident. No survivors.
I did it because I had to. I did it because I trusted you with some of my heart and you weren't careful and me, I've had enough experience. I may not know how to love you but I know how to hurt you.
I'm having trouble with this in part because I am ashamed, already trying to forget how cold and calculated these actions were but it's encoded in my DNA and the line was thin.