Rosella 💎

AN AMOUR FULL OF REGRETS.

After a whole while of me thinking of how I'd live life without Campbell. The only man in my life. A man who would not let me hurt myself. The only guy who could not watch me cry. A whole amount of pain and regrets. My heart was shattered into pieces. Who would I have called in my agony if not him? I could not figure why I was in this pain with my heart made of white clothing and red wine. I could not curtail why this happened. Was it me? A whole replica of my past. Did my mother know I'd go through this path? So she could not hurt herself for me to be safe? A whole lot of thoughts came to my heart. What if Campbell was really alive would I have made him hurt me because of mare feelings? Was he dead all this while and waiting for me to see his dead body? This man was dead inside and saw a life in me prolly. A recap how he came to me without resisting came to me. At this point I hated him. I hated why he made me trust him when he knew he'll die. How does he even love me? Rare proclivity is when Jesus died for us but would I have ever died if I ever knew I'd leave him. A figure of which I found peace in good and evil. I hated him at this point because I thought he love me? Who would anyone allow themselves to die? Who would allow themselves to go if they knew? A hurt person I was with a lot of detailed thoughts in my head. I myself, wanted myself to be hurt because of what I loved. Did I really love myself? My mother accepted me even after what I did. Did she even love me? She would have let me go but she was only scared il get worse but how would I learn my lesson in my comfort zone. How will even be when she has seen me do what I am not supposed to do. See me being raised by a hurt woman. She was not angry because she was too hurt to figure herself hurt. Would I say thank God he died or I will say thank God he died? For the pain my heart for who I was not sure about.
Rhetorical questions kept coming. That day was full of agony. I hated my mother but I could not harm her. For how do I see her now? Do I love her still? Did she know what she was doing or not? A mare cake to compensate a wrong did? A birthday celebration to play a part for a wrong path. She let me get hurt out of her own hurt. A fury stare I was in. But a child needs to learn in both wrath and inclination for him or her to learn.
Extremely harsh thoughts came to my mind. Life's a tussle of both anguish and affliction. I looked at the clock and it was 9 O' clock already I cried like a baby in need of milk. The compound was quiet. These people were prolly in their houses. They all had homes but as for me I had a house. I starred at my dad's portrait with his old brown coat shiny teeth. He looked good in his yellow tie and well caved hair cut. Beside the television was this handsome man's portrait. I was sleepy but a warrior doesn't sleep because his heart is full of unfinished fights. I still gazed at it. I wish I could cast a spell on him to make him come alive. A volume of my sanity was echoed. A barrel of both anger and pain shrink in my heart like a burning paper.
Oh Campbell, an eye saw you manipulated into me. I slept in a darkroom wishing my first love was beside me. I was frightened that night. Oh father! Ask Campbell questions as you both sleep together tonight.
But what's any good without any bad in it. I had school to focus on in the next three months. For my mother who only owned a child; I heard nothing from her. I spent days writing on wet papers. Crying to extent my eyes were blurry and pale was no joke. A messed up eighteen years old I was. I had to go out. I barely ate anything even as a had food stuffs at home.
It was Saturday morning. No way! This Saturday was different. Sadness drained my world into zero. I missed who I was not sure was in heaven or hell. The saddest thing was no matter how I cried he'd never come back. A lame deranged girl I was. I could not even be bitter. At this point, loneliness was not how I could describe my world wished I could talk to non living things at home. The black couch in the parlor became my favourite. The one Campbell sat the day my mom stumbled on us. I hugged the couch passionately from time to time. A fairytale I must say this is but this one did one did not end well. Anytime I felt a breeze my instincts said it was Campbell. Oh my love, so I'd never see you again. That Saturday morning was the worst.
After a long shower of not being sure if I bath my tears or water. I sat on the bed with my naked body. I put my forehead. Opposite the bed was a mirror. I saw myself with my hair weaved all back into six places. My eyes were swollen. My nipples were pointed with my legs wide open. I looked at myself and looked away from time to time. Whenever I looked I imagined how he used to make love to me. I imagined if I'd ever let any man touch me again. My heart bled. I could hear my voice now saying no to myself. But well, I did not want to go too. I did not want to die. I had a point to proove to myself. I had to defeat the world and survive this pain.