Well, I finally told her the truth, or at least most of it. We were over at her place, sitting on the couch, kissing, when I felt her hand on my thigh, and as it moved up closer and closer I knew what was about to happen. Once again, she was taking charge, doing what I had shown fear to do. It was bound to happen, we had been building for weeks, but it couldn't happen, not yet, not before I had told her...
---
We were making out on the couch and I decided to just go for it. I knew he wanted me and I wanted him so I didn't know what was stopping us. But he stopped me. He grabbed my wrist, not forcefully, but gently, and pulled it away. He scooted back a couple inches and looked into my eyes. I knew he was finally going to tell me his secrets, what he was so afraid of, what was causing him to pull back. I was ready. I was ready to hear a tragic story from his past, some traumatic experience from childhood, a lover or friend who had left him in the worse possible way, some horrible crime he had witnessed. What I wasn't ready for was what he actually said.
"I'm a monster."
That was it. I didn't understand, didn't believe, and for a moment, just a moment, I wasn't sure what to say.
---
She looked at me in confusion, like she didn't know the meaning of the word. I figured she was probably wondering what kind of monster, was trying to figure out how to ask me for more details, but instead, when she gained her composure she simply said, "No you aren't."
---
He dropped my hand and just looked at me. It saw tears starting to form in his eyes. "No, really, I am," he insisted. I was about to protest, but he held his hand up to stop me. "No let me finish," he insisted. There was no anger in his voice, only pain. So I scooted back to the edge of the couch and listened.
---
She moved away from me finally, as well she should. I was sure she had heard some of the evil slip through in my voice. I couldn't even tell when it was happening all the time anymore. But I couldn't stop now. I had to tell her, at least as much as I could.
---
I was convinced that it was a lie. Perhaps a lie he believed, but a lie nonetheless. Someone he cared about, maybe multiple someones, had told him he was a monster and he had somehow come to believe it. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. I had seen enough of him to know he was no monster, but still, I let him speak and I was shocked when he jumped right into it, telling me of things I was certain he could have never really done with evil intentions in mind.
"Remember when you asked me if I had pets?" he asked. I nodded. "Well, I used to have a pet. A dog. His name was Charlie. Charlie was a great dog and I loved having him around, but what day there was... an accident of sorts, and I killed him. I didn't mean to, but it was my fault nonetheless." Before I could react to the shock of any of that and think to ask how Charlie died and how it could have possibly been his fault, he went on, "And then there was my friend, the one I went to Europe with. Remember, you asked about him? Well we were best friends for about three years. He had seen what I was, knew the way I could become, and he still stuck with me, he still had hope in me that I could be a better person, but then I did it to him. I didn't kill him, please don't think I killed him." I couldn't believe Andrew would even think I would think that, but I just let him continue. "We got into a really bad argument one time and I punched him in the face, more than once. I nearly did a lot worse, but I managed to control it, to stop myself. Of course he never spoke to me again after that. Why would he? There was no way I could apologize for what I had done to him." I saw the tears actually flowing now as he went on. "And work. I haven't hurt anyone there yet, not really, but I can tell the guys are afraid of me. They're so afraid they don't even report my behavior to anyone."
At that point, I couldn't help it, I just had to jump in. "Maybe that's because there's nothing to report."
---
I couldn't believe it. Here I was, pouring out my soul to her and she still didn't believe it. The monster in me was starting to get angry, pushing me to show her what I really was, but I suppressed it. I couldn't do that to her, not to her. Instead I just held out my hand and she took it. "No, Chloe, there is, there really is."
---
I didn't want to let him go. I wanted him to stay, to hold him and comfort him and tell him everything would be alright. But how could I convince him? He was convinced he was a monster and no matter what I was going to say, he wouldn't believe otherwise; I just needed to give him time, and to keep caring for him, to show him that I knew what he really was even if he didn't.
---
I wanted her to be right, for it to be true that I wasn't as bad as I thought I was, but I knew how bad I really was and she didn't. She hadn't been there; she hadn't seen the things I had done. She brought out the best in me; she had never seen the real me, the dark me, the one that everyone else feared. I had to show her who I really was, but I couldn't show her who I really was. Maybe it was better this way, for me to suffer silently and let her think I was good. What else could I do? The whole point of all of this was that I didn't want to hurt her. Should I just leave? Was it possible for me to stay with her?
I didn't know what to do and so I left, just for then. I would call her tomorrow. I would try again to explain. I would make her actually understand and if then she still wanted to stay, I would be the happiest man in the world.
---
He didn't call the next day and I didn't see him in the coffee shop, not for days. I tried calling him but I only got his voice mail. I thought about going to his work, but to be honest, I was a little afraid. Could they be true, the things he said? He had never been a monster to me. Could he really be a monster to others? Why would he even bother to tell me if I never saw it? Did he really think he would hurt me? When he had said that before I thought he meant in an emotional way, but after that night, I wondered if he really thought he was capable of hurting me physically.
I didn't see any hatred or anger in him. I would have never thought he was capable of hurting anyone. I still wanted to understand. I just couldn't believe any of it was true. That it was really happening. I finally resolved that if I hadn't heard from him by the end of that next weekend, I would go to work and see for myself what kind of man he claimed he really was.
---
I was angry and hurt and scared. I didn't go to work for three days for fear of how I might treat the people there. I really didn't want to get fired, not again. I wanted to be good I really did. Chloe made me good. I thought about it. I hadn't been doing so bad at work since I met her. In fact, a couple weeks ago, one of the other employees had actually smiled at me. Maybe I was getting better. She was making me better. It seemed I needed her. But how could I justify it? I needed her, but what possible use could she have for a man like me?
---
He showed up on my doorstep Sunday night. "I'm a mess," he said. That was it. That was all he had to say. I didn't know if he meant for exaggerating his problems or if he meant those problems themselves, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that it was him and he was there. No one made me feel so wonderful and beautiful and valued as he did. I knew I was all those things even without him, he just made me feel it so much stronger, and there was no one else I wanted to be with.
---
Any guilt or fear I may have felt melted away until there was only her and me, and when the sun came up the next day and we were still together, her lying in the bed next to me, actually turning to me and smiling, somehow it felt like everything was going to be okay. I didn't have to tell her all of it. I told her what I could and she loved me still. My strength. She loved me still.
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