The Addictive Taste Of Shadows

"I love you," he whispered, gaze pleading, suppressing the yearning to pull her into an embrace.

"This isn't love," she murmured, her words more an internal struggle than an assertion to him.

"Can we just... start over?" he implored, a fragile hope clinging to forgiveness, as she had granted in the past.

"I can't. I just physically can't," she confessed, eyes fixed on her feet, aware that meeting his gaze might crumble her resolve.

"I swear it won't happen again," he begged, the plea for a second chance resonating with desperation.

"I don't believe you," she stated, locking eyes with him this time, void of the trust that once existed.

"I love you, please believe me," he urged, his plea reflecting in her red eyes, bearing the weight of pain and suffering.

"No, you aren't. You are just obsessed," she declared, breaking the eye contact, a silent realization of a connection severed.

"I am sorry. Please... don't go," he implored with sincerity, a hint of genuine remorse in his voice.

"Don't apologize if you are just going to keep doing that. Apologize when you're actually going to change because I am tired of getting my hopes crushed each time I thought you were different. I thought you aren't like him," she explained.

"I am not him! Stop comparing me to him!" he yelled in frustration, desperate to be seen as something other than the echoes of a painful past.

"If you go... I will know that you never loved me," he warned, his plea edged with a fear of abandonment.

"I loved you, and I still do. I hate myself for it. I'm not sure if I will ever see you again, so I just want you to know that I forgive you. But I can't be with you, and please move on. I know you will because what you have for me isn't love; it's obsession." With that, she left, leaving him engulfed in fury, brokenness, anger, sadness, and a profound sense of depression.