I Am Selfish

 I remember when this started. There was just too much back and forth. Too much dishonesty. Not just from them. But from myself as well. I don't mean to say I remember everything that led up to this. I just remember that crash. That heartbreak. Not a realization, but the seed of such a thing was certainly planted. I knew when I was hanging in my crushed car, The Pal, that if I didn't die in a physical sense in that moment, then surely I would soon me dead if I didn't die in a metaphorical sense. 

I still make mistakes, probably more than most men. Though not the worst. I'm not the greatest guy on the planet. Not even close. But I'm not the worst either. I strongly doubt if anybody holds that title actually. The worst? That's heavy. And I held that thought of myself for a long time. 

When I crashed my car... I can't even remember if I crawled out of the windshield or if I was pulled from the door by witnesses. Both options hold memories for me. It's weird to be so sure that one of those memories is only an illusion. It's false. What I do remember, while I was drenched in snow and blood, was that what I asked those who wanted to help me was this:

"Am I hurt"?

Not only did I neglect to ask if I had harmed anybody else.... 

The thought never even crossed my mind to ask about anybody me. 

Only me. 

It was always just me. 

When I saw the police pull up. Is it any wonder why I ran? 

I was done. I wanted to disappear. 

But when you want to disappear from yourself... you're playing a game that is impossible to win. 

Not until you're dead at least. 

And maybe not even after this world.

Who knows?

So sure, I'm not the most selfish. But I am selfish. And that's what's important.

I am selfish. 

I regret the kind of person it takes to cause so much wreckage. 

Then to only ask about myself? That's heavy. That's straight fucked up.

So I'm gone. 

But I'm here. 

And as I walk I think of these things. 

-Butterfly