gut feeling

‘I knew from the start this is exactly how you’d leave.’

I pride myself on having good intuition. My gut tells me everything I need to know, it’s a very good communicator. I don’t like to pass judgement too quickly and I am aware that for many people growth is entirely possible. That being said, I know how to judge a character; I can see into the depths of people’s desires, their motives and their ensuing actions. I wouldn’t say I’m psychic but rather well informed on the future.

I say this with complete confidence, my prophecies have never been wrong. On countless occasions I have predicted a person’s ventures, outlining their intentions or crooked reasoning, and even writing the scripts for their upcoming monologues. I would call my intuition a talent if it weren’t so riddled with skepticism.

I had a friend, once. I knew he would hurt me, I called it from the get-go. He dazzled me with pretty words and even prettier actions - my gut saw right through it. It told me what he would do, exactly how he would hurt me and even how he would turn others against me. The only issue was, my gut is infinitely weaker than my heart. I knew how this situation would end, with me in tears and him victorious, and yet I still allowed it to happen. 

I possessed this twisted hope that I was wrong - that my gut had failed me when in reality I was merely failing myself. I betrayed my instincts out of some contorted wish that I was wrong about him - I had never wanted to be wrong about something so badly in my life. Perhaps I’m an optimist; maybe I should take it as a positive that I want to see the best in people, that I want to believe that they can be good. Or maybe I was so desperate to be treated right, to be loved, that I ignored all the alarm bells on the off chance that they might turn into wedding bells.

He changed my prophetic script ever so slightly, adding in a few unexpected twists and turns but the end result was as I had foreseen. All my friends were shocked, absolutely aghast that someone so charming and lovely could have caused so much damage. To them, his sudden change from angel to devil had happened overnight but I had seen this conversion coming from the start and had been comfortably living in denial ever since. 

I tried to warn others about him, an act of delayed justice for my gut, but it was a futile attempt. I had cried wolf too late and now the village had turned on me. I wish I could say that he was a one-off, a lesson that I quickly learned from, but no. I continue to be suspicious of my gut, wondering if my theories will ever be disproved or if I’m stuck in a rather vicious cycle. Perhaps one day I will accept the truth about someone’s true intentions without them having to brutally expose me to their cruelty. 

The truth will always prevail. Now, all those who used to defend the boy who broke me are fully aware of his wickedness. The village has welcomed me home, keeping me safe from the wolves even while I’m still bleeding from their claw marks.