The things he'd whisper to me while I sleep was eerily comforting. Words meant to break me said in such a comforting way. I had always felt vulnerable around him. Around them. His hands on my body felt welcoming. He was all I had left. I reside in him. He made me what I am. I made him.
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He was a figment of my imagination.
Yet he was all I had. He'd call me a coward and tell me I am a waste of a life form. He'd say I could end it all if I wanted to but no I'm a coward. It's like he owned me. Even when I felt like I was alone with my deepest darkest secrets he'd be there with me. I could pray if I wanted but I know deep down no ones listening.
