The One Who Controls | Tom Kaulitz

It Hurts To Love You

He walked away from me, leaving me feeling helpless. Why should I care so much? I was forced into this relationship from the beginning, eventually you get used to the environment. I was actually attached to this motherfucker. I could hate him all I want but deep down it was just love for him.

Why didn't he care? Not wanting to talk about it is so pathetic. What's even more pathetic is I can't walk away even I tried. I was trapped with all this history with him, everything we've been through. This hurt so much, for what?

I headed downstairs needing to talk to him, my mind has a million thoughts and I needed to get them out. I deserved an explanation, he didn't just get to give up and expect me to be okay.

The chill in the air matched the emotional distance between us as I joined Tom outside while he smoked. I wrapped my arms around myself, the tension in the atmosphere almost palpable. He didn't even acknowledge me when I sat across from him, and it stung.

"Are we gonna talk?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of frustration and hurt. His cold gaze locked onto mine, making me feel as though I had done something wrong, as if he were the one that should be angry at me.

"I told you I don't want to fight, V," he reiterated, his voice firm but distant. It was clear that he was sticking to his avoidance strategy.

"Just tell me why. Why baby?" He sighed and leaned back, staring off into the distance.

"Veronica I didn't do anything." I stare back at him, my anger rising. I didn't want another yelling fight but he wasn't making this easy. God I just wanted to fucking scream.

"Tom!" I yell standing up, facing him. He gets up, towering over me. I look up at him, my breath cold.

"What." He said through gritted teeth. He grabbed the back of my neck hard, making me look at him. He raised his hand and hit me, shoving me to the ground.

"Stop acting like a fucking bitch." He yelled as he kicked my stomach hard. I groaned in pain against the cold pavement as tears streamed down my face.

He crouched down to my face and kissed me rough, groping at me. Why was he like this, made no fucking sense.

The confrontation with him grew and escalated as I pushed him away, urgently pleading, "Stop, Tom." He pinned my arms down while his dreads brushed against my face.

"No, V, you won't stop talking about last night," he insisted, his frustration apparent. He made me feel trapped and vulnerable.

"Tom just admit, why can't you just admit you hurt me." My voice pleaded through tears as I looked up at him. "I don't want to give this up." All the hurt and frustration, there was still apart of me that needed to fix this. He was my life now, and had been for a long time now.

"Please don't give me up, please, Tom." He needed to know how deep this was, how my heavy my chest felt. It fucking hurt, it physically hurt to see that shit.

His eyes revealed concern, yet he remained silent. The silence hung heavily in the air, my heart aching for some sign of reassurance, some acknowledgment of the pain and longing.

"Please, say something, Tom," I pleaded once more, my voice raw with desperation. The need for validation, of his care and commitment, was overwhelming.

He pushed away from my body, getting up from the ground. I laid there, crying as he walked away, slamming the door. Fuck.

If he didn't want to care then I didn't have to either. Two play the fucking game. I got my answer, even if he was fucking silent.

I pick myself up, and head back into the warm house and head straight for the kitchen, Taylor sat at the island looking through magazines. I'm sure I looked like a mess based off the look she gave me.