My Brand of Betrayal

Monologue

I never meant to hurt you. But maybe my intentions are worthless at this point.

I don't think I'll ever understand why you still have faith in me, why you still smile when I walk past you, why you still hold me close and kiss the top of my head and whisper how much you love me.

And it doesn't make sense to see my backstabbing returned with an embrace as the knife slides deeper.

You call me your daughter, but I know I will never deserve the title. You still call me so, and with love in your voice, not hate. That's what hurts me the most.

I suppose it's a fitting punishment to see you so dedicated to someone so selfish and wicked. Every kiss and every laugh and every hug is a stab. I deserve the pain.

But you don't.

And the thing is that you know of my betrayal. You know what I've done, what I've hidden, what I've failed to do. You know I've been a liar and monster and a twisted excuse for a daughter.

And still, why can't you scream at me? Why can't you curse and slap and spit in my face? Why can't you hate me the way I deserve to be hated?

I want you to yell and scream and shout and throw every wretched insult you know at me. I want you to slam the door in my face and scream out how you hate me and how you want to forget my name and the way I hurt you over all those years.

But you don't.

You smile and you hold me close and you promise the two of us will make it through together. Even after my broken promises. Even after I've betrayed you again and again and again. You still come to my bedside at night and say you love me. You still hold my hand and whisper that it's all going to be okay.

I want you to hate me for all that I've done.

But you still love me.