Memoires of a killer

I stare into unblinking eyes. A look of sheer terror forever etched into his features. I can't help but grin at the irony of the situation.
He was sent to hunt me, to bring me in, but little did he know that the hunter was really the hunted. I had thought better of them, didn't expect them to send such an amateur after me. Perhaps the next one they send will be better, I think hopefully. There was no sport in this one.
I casually toss the severed head to the side and set off. It's time to pay someone a visit.

The guards never even see me coming. The night is mine and mine alone. The first one's head explodes in a shower of blood, brains and bone. The shock causes the second to hesitate for an instant, which is all I need. I step out of the shadows, and grin my toothy grin at him. His gaze falls on my sharpened teeth, and I see a stain spreading in his slacks. He drops to his knees, sobbing, praying to his god for salvation. Tonight, there is no god, no salvation. Only me.

My serrated knife slices through his stomach like a hot knife through butter. He tries to scream in agony, but no more than a dull grunt escapes his mouth. His tongue lies next to him on the ground, one of the first parts he lost. I don't want him bleeding out and dying on me before I've had my fun, so I cauterized the wound after a few seconds of letting him drown in his own blood. The fear rolls off him in palpable waves. I bask in it, let it fill the void inside of me. I was made for this.
I peel back the ragged edges of his stomach to reveal the organs hidden inside. Behind him, 2 hooks are awaiting their charge. The pain, dread and bloodloss have dulled my plaything to the point of concession. Resignation in his fate has set in, he knows he's already dead. I lower the first of the hooks, the chain rattling. He tries to see what I'm planning, but his eyes are no more than a bloody pulpy mess inside their sockets. They were the first to go. Perhaps I take blind fear too literally, I muse to myself.

I release his left hand from its bond, my strong fingers clasping his arm halfway between his wrist and elbow. My right hand brings the hook closer while I jerk his arm up with my left hand. The sudden motion causes his intestines to spill out of the gaping wound. With the slightest grunt of effort, I ram the sharp hook through his flesh, slipping it soundly between his radius and his ulna. A spasm courses through his body from the pain, noticeably weaker than before I started my little project. I'll have to work fast if I want to get any pleasure from it.
I grab the second hook, undo his right arm of it's ties and quickly, deftly slip the point into the flesh, again passing the radius. My malevolence gets the better of me and I scrape past the ulna, elliciting another spasm. A small trickle of blood runs down his arms, the left already reaching his chest.
I walk to a lever hidden in darkness, flip it. The chains start tightening, withdrawing to the ceiling. Slowly, my charge is lifted up by the flesh of his arms. As the full weight of his body leaves the chair and comes to rest on the hooks, I hear the satisfying sound of tearing skin. The hooks stop their journey through his flesh when they hit bone.
I move back to the thing that was once a trusted lieutenant of Vorn's, kick the chair away. After a few moments of exultation, watching the mangled form of Dave Greeley be slowly suspended against the wall, intestines fully tumbling out of their erstwhile home, I move to a nearby table to pick up my next instrument of torture. I point it at the slightly twitching form of mister Greeley, and push down.
With a flash and a mechanical whirring, a picture is made. I chuckle to myself, 'I've found my christmas card for this year'

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

Such a tired and worn out cliche.
'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'... Guess what, it's more true than I ever before realised.
Over the last few months I've been getting to know an amazing girl. Slowly but surely we've been getting closer, opening up more to eachother. Each night I'd spend 4 hours talking to her on skype, only stopping when I realised I had work in 3 hours.
She was on my mind morning day and night. I woke up thinking of her, I worked with her in my mind's eye and she was my last thought before sleep took me into blissful nothingness. I had done it again, I had fallen for someone. This in and of itself is not so rare for me, despite being at times seemingly cold, heartless and calculating I lead my life primarily based on my emotions.

The best way to describe my general mentality, at least regarding matters of the heart, is leap before you look.
Don't think, don't fret, don't worry, just close your eyes and run in headfirst. See where you land. Oddly enough, so far this mindset has led to me remaining single since my first and last relationship. Odd.

Anyway, on to the topic at hand: I fell for her. I'd never met her, all I ever saw of her was 1 picture which was at best unclear. I fell for her, based on her. Based on who she was, her personality, her flaws and her strong points, her spirit. I don't think I've ever felt more closer to any single person. She reminded me of myself in so many ways, and as I got to know her she proved she was every bit as amazing as I expected her to be, and more.

Despite all her strife, her troubles, her pain, she kept going. She had grown up more than most 'adults' I know in a relatively short lifetime. This was someone who had learned from falling and standing back up. This was someone who had been forced to 'grow up' by her environment, and carried her burden in stride without a complaint. This was someone I could admire, this was someone who would not let herself be stopped by anything less than Armageddon.

I always considered myself a good person. Coarse, blunt, anything but subtle, but in the end a good guy. How mistaken I was. This is what the title refers to:
In my contact with her, I had nothing but the very best of intentions. I never lied, I comforted her when she needed it, I joked with her when she needed her mood brightened, I thought I acted in her best interest, even going so far as to ignore my own benefits in favour of hers. I thought I could make her see that I was in fact not 'just like everyone else'. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was anything but 'just like everyone else'.

More the fool am I. I ended up hurting not only her but another girl as well, I did exactly what she feared I would do. I turned out being, in fact, just like everyone else.

For all my good intentions, for all my vain and idle thoughts of myself, I ended up exactly nowhere.
I'd hurt 2 people I care about, I lost every last bit of respect they had for me, I lost them completely.
All my good intentions led to, was bringing myself another step closer to my own personal hell. In all honesty, after the slightest bit of introspection, I can't say anything other than that I deserve it. Let me burn in the fires of my own failure, knowing that for all my chestthumping about how good a person I am, I am nothing better than anyone else. Worse than that, worse than anything that could ever happen to me, I let her down. I disappointed her, I got her hopes up and then crushed them in one single motion.
I hurt her worse than what I would wish upon the vilest of vile.
If I could, I would take her pain for myself. I would suffer in her place. These are hollow words though, because I can't make her pain mine. The best I can do, is prevent any further harm to her.
I can disappear out of her life. The loss of this amazing girl, this kindred spirit, this soulmate shall be my hell.

Is it better to have loved and lost?

It's been well over a year and a half now since we broke up. While I'm still certain it was better for the both of us, especially at the time and in the circumstances, I also still miss her. I still think of her every day. I know her faults, the reason we broke up. I know it was far from sunshine and rainbows, as it feels now. But still, the feeling persists that she was the one. To this day I still question the wisdom in breaking up, despite knowing it was for the better.

Alot of emphasis on knowing, as you can see. Why? Simple, because knowing does not equal feeling. What I feel is, I let the love of my life slip through my hands due to my personal problems. I feel that the other women I've dated since then cannot hold a candle to her. I feel that without her, I'm not complete.
I've even found myself subconciously sabotaging every single attempt at dating another woman.
So, what's the problem you might think? If your feelings are so very strong, go after her. Surely a stupid romantic gesture, proof that I've changed my ways, that I've gotten better, older, wiser and more mature will sway her heart and remind her of why she fell for me in the first place.

The problem is, she's moved on. Quite clearly. Her life has led her down a very different path, one where there is no room for me.
What we had, it is gone and will not come back. Young love, rushed into living together combined with personal issues and extra strain from lack of income broke us. I can't get her back. I would give both my arms gladly to have her back, but it is not to be.

So, it is clear what I have to do. I have to move on as well. I have to let it be, accept that it's gone and won't come back.
The problem however, is that I can't move on. I've tried, over the last 1.5 years. I've tried forgetting her, which was impossible. I saw her face everywhere, I heard her laugh, her silly jokes, I felt the love which she showed me.
So instead, I tried to replace her, to emulate her. I dated a few women, some which were just clearly not for me, some which I could learn to love but those I sabotaged before I got there. After my latest debacle, I've gotten to thinking. Thinking which has led to this. Typing out my thoughts to organize it for myself, to make sense of it.

I've come to a conclusion. It's not a conclusion I like, or one I see have any future. That does not change that it is the only possible conclusion.

I want her back. Still. Until either that happens, or I figure out how to get rid of this feeling, I will remain alone.