Say You Hate Me

fan-fucking-tastic advice

Truly and utterly fucked.
That's how I felt. Elsie pulled me in with her alluring charm, resilient heart and pretty face and after last night, I knew that she had my heart in the palm of her tiny hand and I didn't ever want it back. Something that could've been innocent and harmless had been meaningful and permanent for awhile now. But after yesterday? My thoughts were confirmed; I knew I could never go back. This woman was my future in a nutshell.

She makes me feel seen. It's not like everyone else on earth is blind, but the way she sees me is different. It's like those heart-stopping green eyes had X-ray vision to see past my layers of bullshit and actually notice me. She's unlike anything I've ever seen before. She's stubborn and snappy and hilarious and beautiful all at the same time. I swear, every other girl on the world must look at her with envy because she was on another fucking level. And don't even get me started on her long legs, plush thighs, round ass and sensational tits.

She had stormed into my life with her brazen defiance and fiery attitude and spun my world upside down. Ever since that first day in the canteen, when she glowered at my cold remarks and wore a see-through white shirt, my life had revolved around that girl. Whether it was irritating her, yearning for her or being with her. She had possession of my shallow heart and was turning it into something unrecognisably bright.

My father once left me in a gasoline soaked shed and lit a match, watching gleefully as I fought to escape the scalding fire but somehow that paled in comparison to the flames that blister my skin whenever she touches me.

I used to think that I was heartless, but I was wrong. Seeing Elsie's deflated expression and lonesome green eyes as she explained her past had torn my heart to shreds. The pain that her confession inflicted on me was unlike any other. It was fury and guilt and pity and horror; every single emotion joining together to ravage my heart.

Her fear of judgement and the fact that her pride was so potent had led her to bury all of her secrets. Knowing that she was living by my side for the best part of a year, simply containing an abundance of trauma and heartache and having nobody to confide in, pained me. The way she dangled her heart in front of me last night with those goddamn glossy green eyes and swollen pink lips had been the most important moment in my entire life. She let down her guards and spilled her truth. She trusted me with her darkest confessions and for that, I would be forever grateful. She was an open book all of a sudden, no padlocks or defence mechanisms in sight.

To be completely fucking honest, I barely resisted the temptation to wrap my arms around her and simply steal her away from the rest of the world. By the skin of my teeth, I managed to keep myself together to console my girl and not kidnap her. I bit back every scathing remark and supported her with every ounce of love that I had to offer.

Whilst, I had some awareness on her rocky relationship with her father considering the circumstances of our wedding, I never knew the full story. I never knew the horrors that fed into her dreams and the reason for that haunting gleam in her emerald eyes. If I did, I would've long since buried her garbage father and abusive bitch of a stepmother and somehow resurrected her real mother. I'd rewind time and fix everything before it went wrong if I could.

And her self harm? The faded cuts all across her skin. The deep lacerations engraved into her arm.  The scars that bore the pain of her traumas. The marks of a million tears. The sight of them hurt me in a way that I didn't know was possible. There was a distant ache in my bones, reminding me of every tragic second she had endured. There was a metallic taste on my tongue as I agonised over her harrowing experience. Each marked, softened by time, told the tale of her silent battles. And although I was sad to look at them, they also represented the immense strength this girl had. They were not just remnants of her suffering, they were reminders that she had faced demons and emerged on the other side. A testament to her sheer resilience.