Paint Us Gray: Part 2
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- Parts 55
MatureComplete Sat, Jan 15, 202223m
(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!)
Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief.
Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew.
This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand narrative; it's about one person's toe dipping into the brokenness of the Earth, and the ripples, waves, tsunamis it created in her life.
A couple of months ago, while consoling a friend grieving the loss of a relationship, he asked me a question no one had ever asked me before. A very vulnerable and powerful question. I had been sharing some of my own similar experiences with him when he messaged me that life changing question,
"And, what did you see at the top of the mountain?"
While his words were just letters on a screen, I could see the hunger in his eyes, hear the desperation in his voice, sense the overwhelming thirst of a person climbing up an incredibly steep and treacherous mountain.
What did I see at the top of the mountain?
This book is my answer to this question.
Let's go for a hike.
All Rights Reserved
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❝𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚 & 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚❞ 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. {𝖠 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 } | | Mature content 18+| |
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