I don't have any use anymore. Today is the first day of the rest of
my life. The first time I can make a choice by myself. I'm outdated,
useless; too useless they already have a substitute, a newer model. I'm ok
with it; it was prone to happen sooner or later, I wonder why it took so
long to happen. 10 years, it has been 10 years since they took me in. I've
fulfilled my purposes, learnt what was needed, work to exhaustion, repaid
them tenfold, and yet, I have no use anymore.
Ten years since they found me on the streets, starving, selling myself, kneed in front of my johns with the mouth open and taking it up the ass. They fed me, clothed me and gave me a purpose. I've lost everything I ever had, many times. I'm not ready to lose everything again.
Of course, they don't know, only Xavier knows, and yet, he only knows because he found me; I would never burden them with my past. I can't forget, and won't forget. My scars are part of me, they define me, remember me who I am.
23, and yet I feel like I've lived many decades. Too many loses, too much pain, it's a wonder why I hadn't killed myself years ago. No, it's not a wonder, I know why. Then, I had hope. I hoped something would happen someway I would be saved. I was. Since then, I've found love, a place to call home and people to call family.
The Greek said only ones who welcomed death were the ones that were in too much pain life was not bearable. I understand it, I welcome thee, oh Dark Lady, and in your wings I hope I will find rest. I can almost hear her sweet song, calling as if she was a siren.
I've found Logan on my bed. That was not a surprise, really. I saw it coming for a long time. I knew it was only a matter of time when I saw the look Jean gave him when he came back. And yet, I hoped it would not happen.
"All the pain mankind has comes from hope"
Albert Camus, wise guy. Hope was all I ever had; it was all that was between the abysm and me. I've stared the abysm for a very long time. It is beginning to stare back.
A part of me died when I saw them. People can live even when part of them are dead, I know it I've done that. The problem begins when there is not anything alive. For me love is trust. You have to trust to love, and you have to love to trust. It took me forever to ask Jean out. It took just an instant to love her, but it took me 6 months to trust her enough to go out with her. Mistrust is second nature to me. You learn it when you spend some years living on the streets.
I don't know if I've found out in different circumstances I would have reacted differently. I guess so, if she had told me our relationship was over, I believe I could survive. It would have been her choice. It would have hurt like hell, but I would have survived. She broke my trust. She shattered my hope.
I'm too tired to go on. When I came here I made a plan. To have a plan ever made me feel better. It was my last hope, so I gave my everything to make it work out. And yet, I had a contingency plan; of course, right them my options were limited, they didn't trust me, so I had to do some research. Of course, at the beginning I was stuck with the basic options. Later on I had my own money and they begun to trust me. Once street trash always street trash. In the end y option was overdose. Some cocaine, which is not so hard to find if you know where to look for; some lydocain and if you don't die by the overdose you die by heart attack.
I'm older now. I don't want any of them finding me. It must be clean, nothing to be found. The best option is an accident, guy comes home after a week in a conference, loses control of the car, fall down the precipice that unfortunately was there. I came home late on the night, many hours before programmed. Nobody saw me, so they won't think more about it. I erase the security files, so they can't know it was not an accident. I close the mind link Jean and I share, so she won't feel me dying.
I welcome thee, oh Dark Lady, and in your arms I can rest.
Ten years since they found me on the streets, starving, selling myself, kneed in front of my johns with the mouth open and taking it up the ass. They fed me, clothed me and gave me a purpose. I've lost everything I ever had, many times. I'm not ready to lose everything again.
Of course, they don't know, only Xavier knows, and yet, he only knows because he found me; I would never burden them with my past. I can't forget, and won't forget. My scars are part of me, they define me, remember me who I am.
23, and yet I feel like I've lived many decades. Too many loses, too much pain, it's a wonder why I hadn't killed myself years ago. No, it's not a wonder, I know why. Then, I had hope. I hoped something would happen someway I would be saved. I was. Since then, I've found love, a place to call home and people to call family.
The Greek said only ones who welcomed death were the ones that were in too much pain life was not bearable. I understand it, I welcome thee, oh Dark Lady, and in your wings I hope I will find rest. I can almost hear her sweet song, calling as if she was a siren.
I've found Logan on my bed. That was not a surprise, really. I saw it coming for a long time. I knew it was only a matter of time when I saw the look Jean gave him when he came back. And yet, I hoped it would not happen.
"All the pain mankind has comes from hope"
Albert Camus, wise guy. Hope was all I ever had; it was all that was between the abysm and me. I've stared the abysm for a very long time. It is beginning to stare back.
A part of me died when I saw them. People can live even when part of them are dead, I know it I've done that. The problem begins when there is not anything alive. For me love is trust. You have to trust to love, and you have to love to trust. It took me forever to ask Jean out. It took just an instant to love her, but it took me 6 months to trust her enough to go out with her. Mistrust is second nature to me. You learn it when you spend some years living on the streets.
I don't know if I've found out in different circumstances I would have reacted differently. I guess so, if she had told me our relationship was over, I believe I could survive. It would have been her choice. It would have hurt like hell, but I would have survived. She broke my trust. She shattered my hope.
I'm too tired to go on. When I came here I made a plan. To have a plan ever made me feel better. It was my last hope, so I gave my everything to make it work out. And yet, I had a contingency plan; of course, right them my options were limited, they didn't trust me, so I had to do some research. Of course, at the beginning I was stuck with the basic options. Later on I had my own money and they begun to trust me. Once street trash always street trash. In the end y option was overdose. Some cocaine, which is not so hard to find if you know where to look for; some lydocain and if you don't die by the overdose you die by heart attack.
I'm older now. I don't want any of them finding me. It must be clean, nothing to be found. The best option is an accident, guy comes home after a week in a conference, loses control of the car, fall down the precipice that unfortunately was there. I came home late on the night, many hours before programmed. Nobody saw me, so they won't think more about it. I erase the security files, so they can't know it was not an accident. I close the mind link Jean and I share, so she won't feel me dying.
I welcome thee, oh Dark Lady, and in your arms I can rest.