I couldn't decide what I thought of him.
I think I hate him. Shouldn't I? Everything about that demon pissed me off. His gentle, sweet voice. His supreme perfection. His taunting, charming grin.
It was all a splendid act. Pretending like he cared for me, that he loved me, was all an act. I vowed to myself that I'd never fall for it, or hope for it to be sincere. But it was nice. Even if it was fake, the feeling was nice. I had almost forgotten what it was like.
It'd be foolish for me to truly love a demon, or so I thought. God no longer wanted me. I would never be accepted in His eyes. Was it really that horrendous…? It was pathetic that my life had come to the point where only a demon would accept me. At least for the time being. As I said before, it was an act.
He was the only person I had left. To me, that wasn't exactly a huge relief, knowing that he, a disgusting creature, was the one person who would never leave my side as long as I lived.
And I wonder what happens after my soul is taken.
I think about it, and decide I rather not know.
I might hate him. I think I might hate myself rather than him though. I didn't know.
He didn't think anything of me. That truth was always known to me. Even though he might be able to make me feel as if he truly loved me, I'll always know. I wish I didn't know. Knowing the truth made me miserable at times. But it was inevitable.
After a while, I decided. I loved you, for some sick, unfathomable reason. It disgusts me as well… But, for now, I want to believe that your act is genuine. The truth will always remain, I know that… but for now, just now… I want to love you dearly, and I want you to return that love.
