Wrong Guy

42 | a sheep in wolf's clothing

SONG:
You Found Me - The Fray

Episode Forty-Two:
A SHEEP IN WOLF'S CLOTHING

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L A W R E N C E ' S P O V :

Maya is long gone.
I never said hello.

I told myself to stay the fuck away from her, and save myself the torture of torturing another human being again. You'd think it'd be easy being me, always the one hurting, yet never hurt, but sometimes the guilt brings me to paralyzing, life ending, soul draining, pain.

And then I tell myself that the pain I feel is nothing in comparison to that in which I've inflicted.
Then I feel guilty for feeling that pain, for feeling like there was ever the possibility that I wasn't entirely deserving of it. That emotion only pries me apart further, holds me hostage to the beast that is – myself.

I'm a sheep in wolf's clothing. I walk around so large and in charge, but behind it all I cower in the depths of my own capabilities, terrified that I might find myself another victim through a twisted means of self manipulation.

It's quite fascinating, when you're not the one suffering.

The examples are unending – Maya, Fawn, Carmella, every girl I've dated.
Every single time I went into things thinking they were different.

They could make me better, they could make me different, they could change me.

That I could be good. For them.

Fawn, more than any of them. She came in like a storm, her quiet admiration drowning me.
I had never been – admired, and I thought that it was wonderful to have found someone who actually deemed me worthy of something more than human decency, something more than scolding.

See, the day I met Fawn was the day my life began going to shit back home.
The day Fawn moved to town, was the day that Dad first hit Mom.

Take it a sign from above that she was meant to save me, she was meant for me, she was everything I needed to become whole again. To not be some result of a broken family, and abusive relationship.

But, she wasn't.

She was a fawn. Nimble, new to life, unsuspecting and innocent, and in a dark forest full of deadly creatures out to tear her to shreds. She had walked, right into my trap, and there was no escaping it.

The problem in all of it lies in the fact that I couldn't remember setting the snare.
I just remember her being mine, an admirer of my own. An angel sent from above to help me through the chaos that was my personal life. I didn't know I was going to hurt her later.

I didn't know a kiss on the neck was a stab to her side, and a rooftop conversation was equivalent to homicide.

I didn't know.

But now I do.

And I feel guilty again. But more than that, I feel guilty for feeling guilty.

After all, I'm a sheep in wolf's clothing.

I act like a wolf, and I should expect to be treated like one.