We all do something that is completely unlike us at some point in time.
Each word was written in a rage. Each syllable stemmed from an insatiable fire inside me. My imagination had certainly gotten the better of me. But after what I'd seen, I suppose this was at least half-way warranted.
I have never spoken to someone so harshly in my life. I had never imagined such cruelty could come from my own hand. The sense of power was maddening as I typed away anything and everything, uncensored.
When it was done, I looked it over. The fire inside was satisfied, and steel gears were clanking away in my heart.
I need closure.
I justified myself over and over, and finally hit the 'send' button.
I feel so filthy. So unclean. So guilty.
But it had to be done, right?
Yes, it had to be done. There was no other way. Things are better this way.
I hope God is graceful enough to forgive me. I destroyed His gift. I threw it in the dirt and stepped on it.
It is better if you hate me.