Lavinia Monologue

He said he loved me and I took him at his word, then one sunny day, under a cloudless sky, he announced that he was to leave, but will write to me while he left me behind. It would have been kinder to kill me than to not return his solemn promises. Now I must be this being filled with a bitterness I cannot control. I have become consumed by a sadness I never knew could take root. All I am is sadness, every other emotion pushed from my being. Where there was the love, the light, the laughter is an aching hollowness. I was honest, truthful and full of more love for him than he could ever understand, now my heart bleeds at the realization that he has given me up. He has left me all alone.

I listened for his ring at the door and spent hours
looking out the window on the mere chance that he would come up the steps. That perhaps he will return and speak with his gentle words and tell me that he had not meant what he has said; but my lover remained absent. I had decided to give myself up to my misery, I spent all the evening alone, questioning myself, and spent sleepless nights thinking of the possibility that I was to blame. My mind became filled with the thought that if this was meant to be, perhaps he will be within reach. Could this mean that had the worst that was possible actually come to pass? Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of my misery, I had not been prepared for what was to come.

I have had my suspicions before, which were once vague and acute.
It had been strange how different he was upon my return, but it wasn't until the one who spoke foolishly and cruelly confirmed such suspicions. She led me to believe that it would have worked out and I appeared foolish for thinking that our plans to engage have not changed, when in fact, he has already moved
on.

Pain is invisible, subjective and open dispute unless it is one's own pain. Aches are worse, always taken to be less then they are and hardly ever thought of without the possibility of the sufferer magnifying their woes. Sometimes I think the reaction a person has to another's pain tells more about that person than they'd like. Maybe it's just that they were never listened to as a kid, but no matter the cause they lean toward disbelief rather than empathy.

I beca1me violent and hysteric at Lavinia’s confession.
The very person whom I call my aunt, knew of the looming disaster awaiting to occur, yet she has done none to stop it from befalling. She had preached in believing that she sees my side perfectly and “the situation as a whole”, yet I am sure her advisory has done more harm than good. Her meddling has caused him to be tired of my very name and for that I most definitely will not forget her actions and choices. I had become sickened at the thought that my own aunt had been let loose, as it were upon her own happiness.

The bitterness was hard to control in my voice, in that moment I could not have stopped the venom seeping through my words – I desperately wished that she had never spoken of me to him. I became hysteric and finally realised how wicked and cruel she really was. The whole time I had been afraid that she would spoil everything, for she does spoil everything she touches, but I was afraid of the possibility. I knew that in the bottom of my heart I hated to be violent, but I could not help but feel a release and sort of pleasure in cleaving the air. (I don't know about this part – work on
it)

How could I have been so blind to the truth? The clear-cut reality was that no one truly wanted to see me happy to begin with; after all, a happy ending was just a deception. It eventually became clear that everything had been done in a desperate attempt to fulfil one’s selfish needs at the cost of my own feelings. I never knew of the betrayal that my aunt had already foreseen and perhaps I may have been blinded.