I'm Having These Weird Dreams •The Flash/Barry Allen•

Letters to the past

Hit me.
Punch me.
Love me.
Hate me.
Destroy me.
Break me.
Kiss me.
Hug me.
Love me.
Kill me.

He punches the wall. Hard.

Its not until a few more punches that I'm absolutely sure that the wall is probably tattered and there may be blood stains on it.

I'll have to clean that up so no one will be suspicious. But all I can do till then is sit and sulk and cry and repeat.

I dont want to have to feel this way ever again. I dont want to have to be in this abusive relationship. But why on earth do I feel so guilty for not doing what he asked me to do then? I'm not happy, and from the looks of it, he isnt very pleased with me either, so why does this guilt stick out like a sore thumb?

I want to continue drowning myself in angry and emotionally unsettling tears, but he's done with his tantrum now, he'll be back once more, begging me for forgiveness, claiming he loves me, and I'll deny what he wants to do, and history will repeat itself once more.

How can I love him? How does a part of me manage to flutter when I know deep down that he is an absolutely terrible person?

I feel used. I feel dirty and disgusting.

I feel like I want to be dead. I feel like I want to feel nothing. And I feel like living is the last thing I want to do.

I feel like I don't want to face him.

I feel like even when I'm right, I just have to be wrong, and everything single thing is all my fault.

Every fumble he makes is my fault.

And I'm the one learning from his mistakes.
So what can I do but sulk and cry and pretend everything is OK until I snap?
I can't run, for he will find me.
I can't not love him because he says he loves me, though we know that's a lie.

And I can't in any way ask for him to spare me.
It's going to make me look weak, and it's going to make me hurt.

So what other option do I have but to put on a a thick mask of makeup and hide under it, the only give away being my eyes, hoping and praying that someone sees the utter pain I am in.

Look at me, can't you see it? SAVE ME.

****

Dearest Michael,

Hello, I don't know if you remember me amongst the probable 20 girls you did this to, but it's me, Gabriella.
Now you may think that I'm still scared of you, considering this letter, but in all honesty, I am not.

Believe me I'd love to punch you square in the face and have your nose broken and bloody, but I guess that'd be assault so I'll pass.
Due to recent events, I won't be joining you in your cell today to kill you, perhaps another time maybe?

I am writing this letter (this may come as a shock to you), to insult you, and to thank you.
You're a filthy man who took advantage of several woman who may have been just as broken as I was, and you deserve all the shit that you ever went through.

You will never see the light of day and you probably will never find someone who is talented enough to see what no one can see in you.
You don't deserve any of that.
You don't deserve true love and that's a pity because really, everyone does.

But it's only because of what you did that I am here today.
All my anger, all my emotions and all my success has come from you.
I'm not asking you to pat yourself on the back, but I'm telling you that you screwed up in the worst possible way and after years, I see it's the best possible scenario.

You killed parts of me I didn't like, and surprisingly I'm okay with that.

You would think flaws make a person, and they do, I just have new flaws that need more attention than those old ones.

So goodbye Michael, I wish you well in the little cell you live in.

I don't know if you know the difference or not, but I've heard this before.

Living in a cell is different from being in a prison.

I think I've figured that out, and in case you haven't, you should too.

And if all goes well for me, I'll be sure to pay you a little bloody visit.

Never was yours truly,
Gabriella Davis.