𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 | 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.

I've always felt vulnerable. As if my entire being was but a mere vessel, used solely to retain the desires of the people around me.

Like how my parents were too concerned with me looking like the perfect daughter to uphold their pristine reputations to notice that I'd stopped eating in ninth grade, or how my best friend all throughout my sophomore year pretended to like me just to be popular, or how my guy friend I made in English class intended only to get into my pants, or how my ex-boyfriend broke up with me when I wouldn't have sex with him.

Everyone used me.

So, when you came into my life, sweet Elio, dressed as everything I wanted, I should've known, I should've thought to myself, like any normal person would, that maybe, maybe you were just too good to be true.

And you were.