The diary of a depressed girl

My addiction

Here's the thing about me, I enjoyed being hurt, and no I don't mean I like being hit or choked it's more along the lines of I liked feeling empty. For some sick reason I still don't understand, I thrived off of it. There was just something so entertaining about watching a guy jump through hoops to please me, to try and make me happy. They would always try to find the perfect thing to say, try to get me to open up to them, to see what made me tick. What I hid under my clothes. Out of all the obstacles though I think falling for them was the best part. The late night calls that lasted for hours, The drives with no real destination just taking random turns until we ran out of road. The walks we took in the woods, the bickering, the kissing in the rain. The sneaking kisses when we were around my family. The inside jokes, you picking me up and leaving sloppy kisses on my mouth and then you would laugh at me while I would wipe my mouth off acting grossed out. When secretly I loved it. How we use to play wrestle and you would always let me win even though you definitely could have beat me. All of that was incredible and some of the best times I've ever had but what I really loved was fighting. And oh boy did our fights get bad, you see, once you've been with someone as long as I'd been with him you learn how to push their buttons and how to make them say or do things they don't mean. I'm not good at much but I was so good at getting under his skin(sometimes even unintentionally). He never once hit me, but a punch to the face would have hurt less than the words he would slap me with out of anger. After all of the nasty things he said to me all he had to do was say "I'm sorry, you know I love you right?" And I was putty in his clamy hands. I was addicted to his toxic presence, for some reason I couldn't get enough of him.