Acknowledging the Monster.

How do you end something with the most amazing person you've ever met?

The sweetest, most understanding person and you realize you're not for them... not now... tomorrow... who knows? What you felt has somehow, recently, stopped being... and emptiness is the dawn as the day fills with guilt and horror. You weigh heavy with sorrow...

What does one do when one knows one is not in that same area and one may have simply moved beyond the vicinity of that one place some time before?

This person I am now... am I better than I was before? One would think so. One would hope so... one does not know.

This person I am today... Just what the hell am I? Who the hell am I? I know, but the mind reels at the admission. The mind reels. If that phrase doesn't exemplify it all, well, then I am no good at my forte... words.

But I must move on. There is nothing but to move on. But I do not know how, not really... Because ending my life now would leave my daughter without a true father and I cannot bear missing any of my daughter's life if I can help it... even to the point of turning me into a coward? Perhaps.

I will not end it today... and I won't willingly end it tomorrow, I think. Suicide's never really been my thing.

Perhaps I am just waxing poetic, non? Devious consolation to any who care, that! Waxing moronic, waxing sardonic, waxing into absolute inanity.


Perhaps, if I was a better man, I would seek solace in her breast... but I am not that man. I am not like that... I am an island of idiocy or sheer obstinate purpose...

The man in the mirror... the man in the mirror... the man in the mirror... I wonder.. have I ever really liked him?

As a child I was an odd sight to myself. As I grew up I became awkward and obtuse. Into my teens at first I was horrid and then I wondered at what I saw... the change and the flexibility... I fancied myself an actor... but I only got a lead in a farce. And now, all these years removed from those late nights in front of the mirror wondering at what I might be, I am odd to myself. Alien in recognition.

The man in the mirror...

The man in the mirror, tonight, is crying. His face contorts like some carnival show freak... the features ugly beyond all semblance of humanity. Eyes red from the salted water... and sheer self-loathing running rampant in his veins.

The man in the mirror broke the heart he wishes he had never broken. The man in the mirror fell out of love, somehow, and the dawning of this made him miserable... but no more miserable than the one to whom the news was broken... the road to hell is paved with good intentions... and the man in the mirror bawls at the reality; that he has failed to open his heart, somehow, or rather his heart is somewhat dead. It beats no more, though he fancies he hears phantom beats, much like an amputee would sense a phantom limb.

I can scant find a way to hate the man in the mirror more than I do so tonight. I am done with these charades, done with these facades, done with trying... just done.

I deserve all the pain that will come my way. I deserve all the pain that has already come. But I wish I could undo certain parts of my existence, sweet though they were at the time - and will be in memory -, for then those whom I have loved and love, those who are truly beautiful, would not be burdened with having known me and having felt for me or feeling for me still...

I have lost the most beautiful person I have known... she loved me and I failed her. I felt once... and it faded... did I feel? Do I feel? I'm dead inside... would the body follow soon after?


The man in the mirror - Savatage

There's a man that I used to know
And sometimes he still visits with me
When it's late and the alcohol's glow
Is nearly gone
And it's time to awaken

And he looks and he laughs at the sight
And he asks what has happened to me
And I blame it all on the lights
But he smiles and says I'm mistaken
And there is no use in disguising
What the eye can so clearly see
That I've spent my whole life denying
That the man in the mirror is me

Give me one second chance
Give me one final dance
Give me one magic line
Take a minute off my time

Give me one final bow
If the moment allows
While he stares at the scars
Saying just who you are
Just who you are
Just who you are

In a child like illusion of life
He imagined the things yet to be
But they all disappeared on this night
Carry on among the forsaken

For there is no use in denying
What the eye can so clearly see
That one day I too will be dying
And the man in the mirror agrees

Give me one second chance
Give me one final dance
Give me one magic line
Take a minute off my time

Give me one final bow
If the moment allows
While he stares at the scars
Saying just who you are
Just who you are
Just who you are
Just who you...

are.