The room stank of blood. She stank of blood. Not enough, she thought. The disgusting stench in no way quenched her thirst for pain and more pain. Every time she shut her eyes he appeared and the memories would hit and hit and she could not stop. Her mind would not stop tormenting her with images of him, his voice saying 'I love you', his deceptively beautiful smile, and something about him made it impossible for her to let go. She was a hopeless addict, trying in vain to seek help for her detrimental affliction, but self-help does not lead one to sobriety. She was struggling and she knew it. She was spiraling, day by day. It terrified her. It terrified her how selfish she was capable of being, and she never knew she could be. She never thought she would reach a point whereby not a single thing mattered to her. She had formed and nurtured this thought that if she ceased to exist, no one would be affected too hard - this notion that maybe she mattered a little, to some more than others, but to none did she matter enough. To put it truthfully, if she did not matter to him, her worth was simply reduced to nothing. Funny thing, he did not even realize the extent to which he mattered to her.
I guess sometimes we choose the wrong people, fall in love with the wrong people, and we choose to continue loving them long after they have proven that they are undeserving of it. Time and again he disappointed her, and time and again, she ran back to him. It made her sick - she made herself sick. She herself had tied the noose, and she herself put her head through.
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Heartbreak Hotel
Roman d'amourAn ode to my love for you, as a form of validation of everything between us, no matter how brief a time our paths have crossed. ~Till we meet again, my love. {Nothing here is pretty, nothing here is structured. Some are pieces of poetry, others del...
