Love can be so strong but in moments it's as if the whole world swallows you whole and no trace of you is left. What makes a person betray another? What out weighs loyalty? What allows someone to rate another's self worth? There will always be that beat in your chest despite the rhythm changing. But what happens when you want the beating to stop?
She was a shy girl and she was broken long before he came along. The boy that devoured her world. Her father broke her heart before anyone else had the chance and the chemicals in her brain just weren't ideally balanced. Therapy started when she was eight years old and answering questions such as, "Do you love your mommy?", were rewarded with small candies. One day a little boy in her class decided that the words ugly, stupid, fat, and lame suited her. Of course she fought back and argued almost everyday but even if she won it didn't stop the hurt. By the age of eleven she had made friends, some girls in her class, she shared everything with them. It wasn't long before her secrets simply became classroom knowledge.
They say a young girls self esteem is very important but she quickly had none. She was a teenager now and her life revolved around knives on her wrists and fingers down her throat. But then he appeared. He had deep brown eyes and a curious smirk. It wasn't long before she was waking up to, "good morning beautiful", and falling asleep to, "I love you darling", she didn't think she deserved anyone so wonderful. He took her to a beautiful French town, they made snowmen together, they laid in fields together, they swam at the most wonderful beaches. They were so in love.
Why do people hurt others? They got into an argument on why he had been keeping where he goes a secret. "What you don't trust me!?", he yelled. It wasn't so much the bruises that hurt her after that but the fact that he had done it. She accepted his apology like a beggar accepts a quarter, graciously. He manipulated her in to feeling terrible about not trusting him so now his nights could be free and he could go wherever he pleased with out saying a word. She loved him so much. She saw him all the time but she still wrote him letters so that he could physically have her emotions about him in his hands. He loved power, he loved to be worshipped.
It was 3am and she got a phone call. It was his best friend. All that went through her head was what if he's hurt? What if he's dead? She couldn't lose him, no matter what she just couldn't. He was her rock. But the news came and she had wished that he had died, at least she could have believed he died loving her. She thought that to have sex was to have a connection and that no one, especially not him, could give it so freely. That didn't matter though; because he gave it away. It's been a while he had been doing it and all with different women. Some were skinny and some were curvy. Some were potheads and some were sober. Some had blue eyes and some had brown. But in the end they were all better than her.
They say that red is the colour of love but it was not love that streamed down her wrists that night. "Why does it have to hurt so bad!?" She screamed. She was not talking about her wrists. He called her princess but is that what he called the others? He knew it would break her. He knew and he did it anyway. She didn't even know if he cared how badly it hurt her, he blamed her.
Two years since the break up and four years since the two met and she sits alone in her dark bedroom. She had good days and she had bad days. She made new memories and even better friends. She found a new lover that would never hurt her the way she was hurt but how could she really know that? She thought she wouldn't get hurt before. She couldn't be so foolish again. Yes, things got better but the damage had been done and nothing had healed. Sometimes she screamed at the boy who abused her world and he didn't care and gave her more empty apologies. Nothing can fix what had happened. Why do people hurt others?
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
