He fulfills my dreams now.
Not you.
But it's not the warm, romantic ones I had of you.
It's the ones where I feel my heart stomped on continuously.
Where I feel my stomach drop into a terrifying pit of darkness.
I just realized that I'm afraid.
Afraid of him hurting me.
But not just any hurting.
I'm afraid of him hurting me the way that you did.
YOU ARE READING
The First
Short Story"I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say." ~Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca You were the first one. And no matter how hard I try, I can never forget.
