I Murdered Someone

The End of Something That Never Truly Began

I murdered someone.

Not the kind you’re thinking of but a brutal one which anyone have never heard of.

The person I murdered lived inside me. He wasn’t made of flesh and bones. He was the part of me that knew how to love how to feel.
The part that smiled whenever she smiled.
The part that waited for her messages even when there weren’t any.
The part that believed love didn’t need a destination to be beautiful.

You might wonder why did you murder him?

Because he was hurting himself knowing that it might completely end up ruining his mental peace and health.

So it all started when the day I found out she already knew how I felt...

I wasn’t heartbroken.
I was too tired to react.

She never promised me anything. She never owed me anything.
So I just accepted things as they were because some beauty is only meant to be admired, not possessed.

I sat frozen, haunted by a single realization.

If I let him live...
He would’ve spent his whole life admiring her.
He would’ve been happy doing that.
But I knew it would only end in pain.
I knew I couldn’t let that version of me live anymore.

So I picked up the knife…
Not a knife made of steel.
A knife called reality.
I brutally slashed his veins, draining all his blood, followed by multiple brutal stabs to his chest which ended every fantasy he had ever built.
Every dream where life somehow chose us.
Every little conversation that only existed in his imagination.
Reality kept pulling him back every time he tried to escape it.
He kept finding reasons to stay alive.
He even tried to run but I crushed his overthinking head with the brutal truth, stripping away his illusions.
I think that’s what finally killed him.

People say your first love teaches you how to love...
Mine taught me that admiration is also a pure form of love and that not every beautiful thing is meant to be yours. I just don’t think I’ll ever love the way I loved her again. Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know.

I wonder if I will ever cope up from this because some scars are simply too deep.

Sometimes I wonder...
If I accidentally saw her again someday...
What would happen? Would he reborn?

I don’t know.

And maybe I don’t want the answer. Because I know if that ever happens...
I’ll dirty my hands again.
I’ll kill him once more. Because I can’t watch him spend another lifetime loving someone who never asked to carry that love.

So yes... I murdered someone.
Not because he loved the wrong person.
Not because she rejected him.
I murdered him because he would’ve happily spent his whole life admiring someone from afar...
And somehow... he would’ve called that a beautiful life.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was the only one wrong.
I don’t know anymore.

And that’s where my one-sided love story with Blue Axolotl ends.
It was beautiful while it lasted.

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A small note for everyone and for Blue Axolotl

If this article hurt anyone in any way, I’m genuinely sorry.
That was never my intention.
Also I am completely fine. I just went way to deep into my thoughts while writing this one.
To Blue Axolotl,
If this article made you uncomfortable or hurt you in any way, I’m sorry.
I never expected you to love me back. Deep down, I always knew that wasn’t my story.
I just have one request.
If possible, please don’t let this become something people laugh about or joke about.
And if you’re comfortable with it... I’d still like us to remain friends, just like we always were.

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