Blissful Torture

A Story by Julia

Breathe in. Breathe out. Take those very breathes that help you live. Inhale the oxygen that continues your survival through the most miserable moments. It hurts like Hell, but you keep climbing. Climbing up those stairs to Heaven. Closer to bliss, closer to God. But wait? What’s that calling your name? Don’t look back. You command yourself. You know what happens if you look back. You’re sucked back into the deep hole. The evil pit of Love. The kind of love that tortures. The kind of love that you get nothing but bruises, cuts, and scars from. The kind of love that destroys you. The kind of love that keeps you hoping there’s something more in it. Something good. Don’t look back. Just keep reminding yourself. Because nothing will make this any less painful. Nothing will make this any easier for your heart to take. You either reach the top with a broken heart and a lot of “What if”’s or you turn around, and fight for something that may or may not work. Either way is a risk. Either way, you’ll be killed in the end. “Turn around.” You hear it being said. You’re hesitant, but you do it. In hopes of a new Heaven, you head back to your Hell.