Was acting maturely so difficult? Couldn't I find it in myself to exorcise myself? I should have come to a conclusion by then. Either I could just end his life or I could tell him one final goodbye and leave the scene forever. Was it so difficult to be the better person and let him rot in his guilt and sadness?
The love I felt for him had turned to bitter that it tasted foul in my gut. My anger had left me long ago, but the memories of it kept me from doing anything. I couldn't kill him, no. I had wanted to, god, I had wanted to kill him with my bare hands all my life. But now I saw that I was such a child about all of it. I had done everything wrong. I thought that an experienced man such as him would truly fall for my petty plans to get revenge and I didn't have my eyes on the game. I had been lusting after him, putting him on a pedestal, both the good and the evil one, and I had brought it all on myself.