An Angels Tragedy

Love?

Love? My most addicting sin. My lover or my hater? The worst pain in being completely and utterly consumed by another in the most unhealthy ways or maybe it's when the addiction to a person is stronger than anything you could come to terms with. I may never convince anyone that this pain is his fault because it truly is mine.
    I loved him or perhaps I was bewitched by the lies and violence he proved of having. The moment I met this mesmerizing boy I was hooked, the feeling of knowing something so bad but felt unfulfilled without pursuing the idea, the beginning of the loss of trust in my intuitive gut. I looked upon those plump pink lips, the crooked smile that played across his lips, and it seemed to be a sight for sore eyes, seeing over his flaws or as some may call it 'blind love'. The musky scent of his house, windows ajar, soft chilling breeze rolling onto my skin, raising of my hairs on my neck, the dim of the light, and beautiful facial features consumed my thoughts, taking a mental photo of the smile as a keepsake. A flame of attraction and desire but all flames must burn out eventually. Unfortunately, I would take that drug of this boy for almost a year, a loss of pride brought with the boy. The vanilla scent of his hair, the strong smell of his cologne, burning through my nose. The concept of love is that it will not come with a printed label and instructions, not even the instructions that make little to no sense until two hours later you find the instructions have been upside down. The pain-filled half of his chestnut brown eyes, a ring of passionate fire in a thin dark line around his iris, and a small hope within every black coloring of his eyes.
    The way his hand rested upon the small of my back, his lack of passion for my nerves, and the intense glare he gave me caused butterflies in the pit of my stomach perchance the flutter of butterflies were a lie, instead, bees stinging. The one person whom I would ever confine in, a lie I told myself. The pearl of his white teeth in the crookedness of his smile was enough for the amethyst purple bruising of my knuckles to stop forming, the drip of maroon blood no longer bounced from the tile of my bathroom floor, and the sting of a scolding hot shower to stop. I used to believe that loving someone was to die for them but I was insanely wrong because the love should have been enough reason to instead live for them. Little to the human eye was telling oneself you'd take a bullet for them when instead his cooling fingers would have been resting on the trigger with his eye aiming for me. It was not the violence and psychopathic nature that terrified me; it was the known fact that whatever he may do to me I would still see perfection over any one of his flaws. The love burned equally as much to the hatred I had placed for this boy. Ruthless was his truth but my blind heart was lying to me when I believed he was straight perfection.
    The manipulating 'I love you ' was only for our advantage which I questioned but would never truly admit. The wrestle of his demons was placed upon mine, I took his pain and handled both mine and his. I took what he could not defeat, I stabbed knives into my back to remove one of his. The late nights of the howling wind, chilling breeze, and crashing of the leaves were my only sanity remaining of worth. The nights spent pouring sorrows spilling from my burning, bloodshot eyes. Silent cries, light moans, and sniffles of the hidden pain, the warmth of my tear-filled pillowcase rubbing against the red of my cheek. The warmth of his smooth lilac-colored lips gently placed kisses along my forehead, drying my tears with the tip of his finger, the shaky fingers placing under my eye to catch the salty sorrows. Whispering patient ¨it's ok¨striving for conviction. The sync of our heartbeats; beaten into the drum of my ear, a rather beautiful sound.
    Everyone falls in love, I and my past lover included. The term falling in love is commonly used to describe the act of loving and surrendering to another. Falling in love? We should rather love than fall in love because everything that falls will become broken. We once believed to be the same person, possibly the same soul, the same equal amount of pain and love, both of which we were beyond incapable of doing. I was the flame and he was the water, so different but so alike, my naive characteristics did not realize every flame will burn out and every bit of water will soon dry out.
        The single red rose ran out of water and the will of fighting til it soon died out, a metaphor many may never comprehend but my darling we shall. They say the best of angels make the cruelest of demons and my love you were impeccable until they dragged you into the pits of hell. I shall feel the dark desire and attraction for you for all eternity, but as time goes by the mesmerizing boy I once came across fades from my mind. We seek the feeling of being adults but we're only children, children who took on the pressure of sacrifice too early.
         What you failed to notice is that I am a museum of art but you had your eyes closed. Art was the best of women, I do not seek another for their beauty but instead their art because art is not supposed to be beautiful it is supposed to make you feel something. I know my other half of my soul truly did love me with every fiber in his being for the reason that just because someone can't love you the way you think you deserve does not merely mean they do not love you with all they have. My darling you thought you could hurt me in revenge but you threw dirt on my name and all it did was grow flowers. You once told me my kind heart was the reason for my often pain but having a heart like mine in such a cruel world is courageous not a weakness. Fellow peers are inquisitive and seek the answer slyly for their dramatics, often asking why I fell in love with such a boy. I replied that even though we were toxic and would become the death of each other we were all each other had most nights. Some would still question my factual statement as if I was wrong, but truthfully I loved you because we accept the love we think we deserve. It is outstanding to comprehend that we are so different from each other but almost the same. I still know your mother's birthday and your favorite food even after such a long time of no communication, even if we communicated now I am sure the awkward feeling would not be there, we would connect. It truly amazes me that the same stars I saw from my bedroom window and the same stars he saw from his front yard were the same.
     I think what is the most heartbreaking pain is that I had to leave you knowing damn well I still love you. You may believe I do not love you now, you act as if I am not there, you may turn your head with the roll of your eyes and a beautiful scrunch of your nose.  You may never comprehend that perhaps I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, I left because the longer I stayed the less I loved myself. My love for books was almost as great as my love for you but I am forever the writer but you were always the words. Some would believe I am addicted to the feeling of the impossible and honestly they are beyond correct. I'd enjoy saying this is a story of love, like Elizabeth Bennet and Tessa and Hardin but this is not that story, this is more alike to Romeo and Juliet. A story they would never glamorize, a said realistic story for its intense drama and tragic ending. Instead, this would be a story thought to be a toxic fire burning through our passionate veins. I know I was not your first kiss, but the way our hands glued like puzzle pieces and the way our lips softly touched was enough to know I'd make a world for you.
      You were a lie, a lie I found and built a home inside of. The way you glared at me made me feel like the only girl in this cruel world but I was damn wrong, you never looked to me with love. In all honesty, I know we weren't meant to be only a lesson, we are soulmates just this lifetime wouldn't allow it. Growing up my parents would hypocritically warn me of drug use and alcoholism but they were wrong to fail to warn me of the boy with the crooked smile and loud laugh, you were a much stronger drug.