Different heroine (v3)

My truth...

I love my life, yes that may seem stupid in a sense that I have no other reason to loathe what I have but I love the idea that I have whatever I need and want.

I understood from an early age that everything I looked at, anything I sought, the things that I desired. They were all mine if wished so, but one thing that I don't have is the exact thing that I need: Love.

I lack love, an idiotic sentiment that makes me keel in disgust and contempt, the same ideal to search for that was engraved into my psyche when I started learning about the world even more.

That was when my ideal life of indulgence shattered, the guilt and remorse I felt when I saw what my parents had to go through. What my maids and butlers had to go through, my friends and acquaintances had to go through.

I mean, rest assured that it was nothing dramatic but when I saw it, that feeling of enlightenment shone down on me, I had an epiphany.

"So is it my right to say that I love the life I had right now?" I wondered, it was something that I couldn't answer easily.

It is true that I loved life and it's misgivings and gifts, but I never understood this feeling of wanting to get rid of that life. My heart of gold and my shell of protection was all I really had to save me.

However, I knew that they wouldn't protect me from what I had been willingly suppressing within myself, so in a endeavour to seek out these new found sentiments.

I procured for a deep memory that was buried deep in the back of my brain, the fascination and admiration of the boy who first stole my heart. But the image of him.

It always remained static whenever I found myself in a state of reminiscing.

Never hearing his voice, only seeing his lips. Never seeing his face, it was just white.

His figure, unrecognisable. But everyday, every single day of my life; I still look for a way to remember.

However my mind won't let me, at first I took it as a sign that I should stop; but I never did. It was delusional and I was behaving even more and more cynical, I never disregarded the idea to let go; but my heart never let me do such a thing. It almost seemed like a fever dream when I first saw his figure, but it became a reality once he started showing up more and more whenever I looked into the past memories I tried to lock away.

I cursed my brain for making me remember such vague memories, it wasn't a gift that I wanted since I never really got it, I never got to know who the person was or who they were to me.

In reality, I never really wanted to contradict my thoughts so much, a person like myself who prides themselves on having a better moral compass and judgement than many others, was subject to this was unthinkable.

It contrasted to the usual straightforward personality and human version of myself.

"I am... a devil." I thought this way, it wasn't anything novel.

There were many hints that showed up everywhere, the sins I have within me, the sentiment of negativity and aura that contradicts that feeling were perfect representations as to how I wanted to stop pretending to be something I am not.

This black hole of suffering and regret, I hated it.

"So why do I praise myself so much if I held such ideals within myself?" I had no one else to say my thoughts to, so I locked them away and tried to find out myself.

That's the problem, I don't know why one minute I am fine and then the other I am not. A constant loop of heartache and pain revolving around me, it was brutal to my mental health.