What, really, is a psychopath? 

It literally means “mind-sick”. Aren’t we all really therefore psychopaths? I think so. But then again, I may not be the best person to ask.

The first time I met Roger I didn’t like him. He was altogether too smug for me. Pain-in-the-ass in fact. But of course I didn’t let him know that. I was always pleasant and cheery toward him, asked him about his life even though he never asked about mine, stood and listened to him endlessly while he told me all about himself. So self-absorbed. So completely lacking in understanding that others have lives too. A sad case of a man in my view. He lived in such a narrow space - the “what will Roger do today?” space. 

So, as you can imagine, I was really doing him a favour the day I killed him. In those moments before he blacked out he would have finally been alive. He would have finally realised that other people matter. Inside his fear and pain he would have been just that tiny bit grateful to me for that. 

The problem now was his wife. She seems to have learned nothing from his example and is going the same way. All those shows of grief so that her friends will console her. Like Roger, it’s all about her. I know I should give her the same opportunity I gave him but I just can’t bring myself to it yet. I will eventually but you have to be ready for these things. It’s quite demanding. You have to give enormously of yourself – physically and mentally - so you need to prepare. But I will do it. I owe her that.


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