Regrets

From now on, I am a force of nature, glorious in my wrath! How dare you! I was polite, I was pleasant, and yet you crossed me. No, not just crossed me. You entangled and strangled me with your ropes of duplicity! (We shall not discuss what I was doing that I was standing still long enough for you to tie me so securely.) No more! The fact that I often hide my fangs does not mean that I do not have them.

I am neither blind nor stupid. (Though I must admit, the prescription in my lenses is pretty strong.) Quiet, perhaps, but that is mere artifice on my part. In truth, I'd rather watch the back and forth of other's interactions rather than engage in my own. But, oh.... Let's see how you handle when I not only use my voice, but scream with it. (I wasn't the lead in all those school plays for nothing.)

I did try to be nice, you know. I smiled, laughed, played pretty. I already have so many enemies, regrets that I cannot change. Despite all appearances, I like people and rather prefer it when the feeling is reciprocated. But after all of this sordid affair, I am forcibly reminded that the only way to shield myself from harm is to rack up those regrets.

I am sorry that we couldn't be friends.