They let me out early. They said I was a model prisoner. I said I learned my lesson. I said I'd be good. I meant it. I meant a lot of things. The worst thing in the world is a man who says something he doesn't mean. Sometimes at different I'd say things that meant different things. I meant them both. Sometimes at the same time.


I meant it when I hit her. I meant it when I yelled at her. I meant it. She made me so angry. She made me. I still mean that. Not "I got angry." She made me.

And I meant it, every time I said I loved her, even today. Even calling her, saying it now. It was the first thing I did now I'm free. I told her I did my time. She told me she never wanted to see me again. I said that I probably deserved that.

I'm not sure why they call this freedom. I know what I did makes me a monster. I know that. That's what the prosecutor said. That's what the arresting officer said. I know I should have been better. Maybe I should have listened to my dad more.

But I know I'm not a monster, too. I'm just a man. I do my best. Sometimes that's not very much, but I do my best. I mean well. I just try to get by.

I don't have the money for a train out of this city. I don't have anywhere else to go. I promise I'm a real hard worker.

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