...sunday june 22 2014
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Publikasi terakhir Min, Mar 13, 2016
The first part pretty much touched based on how in love I was with this person after years of friendship. He was my definition of perfect.
Months later, we decided to turn our friendship into something more serious. It was beautiful.. At first.
As time went on, It got ugly. Months after our breakup I still hated myself. I did not notice the verbal abuse. I did not notice how uninterested he was. I was completely bitch slapped in the face by reality, that the healing process took much longer than anything I would have expected. I am so glad I opened my eyes to this. It makes me more open minded and makes me think twice when I try to accuse something. I never point the finger like how he used to. It has been a year since this person and I broke up. I have finally forgiven myself from being so oblivious to love.
Seluruh Hak Cipta Dilindungi Undang-Undang
#336
unconditional
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βπππ―ππ’π π¬π’π¬π¨ππ’π & ππ’π€π¬π‘π ππ’π§π π‘ππ§π’πβ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {π πππΊππ½πΊπ πππΎ } | | Mature content 18+| |
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