Late night thoughts

My game

I like to play this game. Maybe it's even a sport. I like to kill boys. Not literally, like taking their lives, but just taking their heart, and crushing it between my finger tips. I love seeing them turn into different people, better people perhaps. They never once thought about me leaving, the fact that I wasn't their little trinket to be placed on a shelf and admired. I liked seeing their smile slowly fade from their face when I uttered those fateful words, I loved the misty eyes expression they would give me as they begged me to stay. I would never stay. They loved again, but little things will always remind them of me, like how I got him into this band, or that tv show. It wasn't hard to leave my imprint on him. I had the upmost satisfaction in it all knowing they will never love someone like me again, they will never trust to love someone again.

I pick my victim throughly, making sure they were even Capable of love. Then I play the innocent card, about how my ex broke my heart and I needed a "friend".

I never had sex with them, I might be a monster but sex was out of the question for me, I never wanted to give away my virginity, that was mine.

I loved watching them fall. Their eyes got bright and they got this goofy smile on their face. I learned to mimic it to make the illusion real for them.

I like my game. I'm good at what I do.

Until I met him.

He was different. Not cocky, not a love sick fool. He looked at me as though I was a person, not a toy. I couldn't tell if I loved him, or not. I guess after faking for so long you forget what's real and what is fake. And so I guess he couldn't tell either, because after 5 months, he said he needed to go his own way. He said I wasn't trying, I didn't act like I was happy.

I felt numb, not like I have before. I felt a jab to my heart. He uttered the words "I'm sorry, I loved you." And I guess I just broke.

Funny, isn't it.

-Bailey