It started out as an amusing thought about never telling anyone the truth again.
What if I could do this? If I were to lie about everything in my life forever, what would happen. I pictured the confusion, yet some kind of incredible new world formed entirely by lies. I pictured myself in a blissful state, yet the world around me in disarray and the terror on your face. I wouldn't be telling you these things if I wanted you to like me, in fact, these are the kinds of things I wouldn't tell anyone connected in my life.
These dreams always started with you around, but you had no idea. I'm going to tell you now, I wasn't laughing at you. It was all in your mind, it was all in my head.
The first dream came to me when I was sitting on a bench, waiting for you in the mall. There was a girl handing out samples of lemonade. I watched her doing this--- she didn't move her feet at all. And then I thought about what would happen if I walked up to her and flipped the tray. She wouldn't have seen it coming, and neither would I. I thought about how funny this would be, and I was laughing when you sat down beside me.
You asked, What was funny, and I said, You.
That was a lie, but you believed it, I know you did. Now you lie and say you didn't because you know the truth about me.
The truth about the day at the drive-through. I was driving, and we were being handed ice cream cones. I gave you yours, then smiled. I didn't smile at you--- I was just thinking about how amazing it would be if I threw my ice cream cone at the drive through guy. He had glasses, so the ice cream would have smudged his glasses. Maybe this is why I didn't do it, or maybe it was because you were there with me, and I didn't want to seem cruel.
But I think it was fate.
I was having these visions of total chaos. The first two incidents were innocent enough, but soon I escaped further into this strange area of my mind. You said you thought that you were losing me, but I said I loved you more than ever. You saw the anxiety, I grew nervous. I left you to protect you, I said.
From what.
I knew what on a Tuesday night driving home from your house. My car is the type of car without automatic lights, so I turned them on and saw you standing in the driveway. It was your shadow on the garage door that I focused on. It exaggerated your movements. I exaggerated your movements in my mind. The way you spoke, the way you put your arm around me--- I was dark in your shadow.
About five minutes from your house that night was when the anxiety struck. I stared at my thumbs, wrapped around the wheel, and realized that I could easily just turn my wrists to the right and hit a tree. I was afraid I would do it. I knew I wouldn't, but I could. Maybe I didn't know myself, maybe I am the type of person that would do this sort of thing.
What was I doing. I couldn't be with other people. I couldn't be left alone.
And this is why I'm telling you these things. About how I have the power to kill at any moment, the power to ruin anyone's day, how can you trust me? I don't trust me.
Now it's been a week. I'm on the same bench and you're walking across the mall, slowly, slowly, I'm trying to control the dark side of my mind. The side that's picturing me running to you. The side that shows me kissing you, like in a movie.
How do I know this wouldn't be instant death.