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[Quote. "You are my soul." Unquote. Now does that sound familiar? You kiss the boy, and make him feel this way.]

How quickly things change. How quickly hate can turn to love. How quickly enemies can turn into lovers. It caught us both by surprise, it was an accident. But, how quickly something accidental can become a priority. Lingering kisses, passion filled nights; everything once so wrong became so right. Both of us, caught in an insane dance of lust and passion and love for the other one. How perfect and lovely and right it was. Tan skin on pale skin. Blonde and black, side by side, panting and sweaty, but filled with bliss. Everything was perfect. It took only one accidental kiss… We both marveled in the fact that hate could turn into love so quickly, so completely. But the high I used to ride on this discovery now leaves me breathless. Because, now, you are helping to prove how quickly love can turn back into hate.

[Quote. “Well, this is me.” Unquote. You have been so ugly your entire life. So why change now?]

The first time, it hurt. But by now, the only thing that hurts is deep inside as your hand flies angrily towards my face. You scream insults at me, your usually perfect composure broken as tears stream down your face, your hair messy, eyes bright and crazed. After all, you remind me, it’s my fault you are this way. It’s my fault you fell in love with me. It’s my fault that other people’s eyes trail me in the hallways. It’s my fault that you feel the only way to keep me all to yourself is to punish me. It’s my fault… It’s my fault… It’s my fault. I close my eyes, the barrage of words never stopping. It is my fault, I know it. If I weren’t here, then you wouldn’t be feeling all this pressure. It’s my fault for living. It’s my fault for expecting some perfect romance… How dare I ever thought you loved me? It’s obvious that your hate for me never left. It’s been there all along.

[Is this how you wanna go down, right before my eyes? You are the saddest sight I know. And you’re quiet. You never make a sound. But, deep inside my mind, you are the loudest one I know.]

After your rage dies, you collapse on the floor beside me, like you always do. You clutch at my shirt, starting to sob, like you always do. And, I wrap my arms around you, ignoring the throbbing pain from the blossoming bruises, like I always do. You cry into my shoulder, apologizing over and over, like you always do. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, your white knuckles holding tightly to my shirt. “I need you... I swear. I’m sorry.” Pangs of sadness and sympathy and forgiveness fill my chest, as I want to shed my own tears for you. “I’m sorry…” After that, no more words escape your lips as you fix your lips almost brutally over my bloodied ones. You fill my senses, over and over again. You take whatever you can get. Take so much of me... When you’re satisfied, you collapse over me in a blissful mess that has become so familiar. I whisper that I love you. But, I can’t help but feel empty still as your accusations ring nonstop in my mind. Like they always do.

[Quote. “We never talk.” Unquote. And that’s when I don’t answer. Don’t you dare ask why, because you don’t want to know.”]

The days that follow move in a blur for me. I wander aimlessly around the hallways, hoping to catch your eye, even just a glimpse of you. You’ve been avoiding me ever since that night, for some reason I can’t fathom. This hurts worse than any bruise that you could give me, because despite the pain you sometimes cause my heart, being around you is soothing. It calms me, heals me. Without you, I’m left to nothing but my battered body and my twisting thoughts. You may not be desperate for me, but I’m still desperate for you. Why aren’t you talking to me? I hear someone say my name, and turn, my stomach twisting into knots. But it’s not you. You’re nowhere to be found. You can’t ignore me forever… right? I feel my head spin as days slip by and still, there’s no sign of you. What did I do to deserve this? And then your words hiss into my thoughts. It’s my fault. Of course. I don’t deserve your presence. You were right all along…

[Quote. “Well, woe is me.” Unquote. How different I’ve become. And no one understands, my dear. No one really cares.]

By the time you find your way back to me, my bruises have nearly disappeared. I’m sitting alone, brooding, when you find me. You probably don’t realize how much I’ve given up so I can be with you. My friends, my family, my future. My eyes drink in the sight of you. You force me roughly against the wall, your mouth feasting on my own embarrassingly willing one. No explanation for your absence is offered as your tongue battles with mine, your hands ravishing my body. We soon find ourselves on the floor and you bring me to new highs, making me forget about the lows. I writhe under you in the torturing pleasure as I drink in this moment desperately. After all, before I know it you may disappear again, leaving me with nothing. Your nails leave marks in my skin, I notice as we later lay in silence. I close my eyes, content, before I feel your tears upon my bare skin. Startled, I look at you to see that they are tears of anger. I brace myself for what I know is coming. A hard slap resounds through the hall as you scream, “You did this to me!” Your eyes are sunken in and an unhealthy pale has come over your skin. “It’s your fault! You made me leave you! You made me leave so I could teach you a lesson! It’s. All. Your. FAULT!” You emphasize your last sentence with strong blows. I cringe at your words as you continue to pummel my body, tears welling in my eyes. I feel no physical pain, but whatever mental pain there is cripples me. Your tirade stops and I look at you, pleadingly. I get nothing but a cold stare as you hiss at the sight of me. “Look at yourself. You disgust me, you sl**." And with that, you turn and stalk out of the room, never looking back as the swirling darkness claims me.

[And you were right, right from the start. It took everything you had, but you finally broke my-]

I come to my senses, not knowing how I got where I am. I’m leaning over a sink. I wipe my mouth, trying to rid myself of the acidic bile that usually comes after being violently ill. I pant heavily as my stomach turns over, making me dry heave. Tears stream down my face as I clutch at the sink, resisting the very tempting urge to just fall over and never get back up again. I run my fingers through my sticky hair, pushing it off of my forehead. I bring my eyes up to the mirror over the sink. I stare, transfixed in horror, as my reflection changes before me. My normal features bubble and melt into something so grotesque, I can’t help but stare. How did I never notice how hideous I am before now? My eyes are sunken deep in my skull. My skin is discolored with angry bruises. My lips are split and bleeding. You were right. I am disgusting. I disgust myself. You were right. I slam my fists, suddenly, into the mirror, letting my repulsive reflection splinter around me. Blood runs from my hands and wrists and, feeling lightheaded, I sink to the ground. My last thought is that the shattered mirror is, strangely, reflecting my heart.

[And now the old flame will pass away. I saw your life once. Did you see mine? But not all things will pass away. You turned your light off, so I turned mine away from your sadness. Away from the nothing that you feel for me.]

I’m dreaming. Someone’s arms are wrapped around me, rocking me gently back and forth. I sink into the embrace, even though the arms are too soft to be yours. But, when I look up I lock eyes with yours. “Darling,” you whisper into my hair, protective arms cradling me. “What did he do to you?” I look down and see the bruises showing from underneath my robes. I notice that my hands seem to be heavily bandaged from where I smashed the mirror. I look up at you confused. “You did this… But I deserved it.” I bury my face in my hands, not bearing to meet your gaze. You stroke my hair softly, your voice just a murmur. “You didn’t deserve this… You don’t deserve this… abuse.” I turn and look at her, horror in my eyes. “Abuse?” I whisper. “It’s my fault. I’m the disgusting one. I don’t deserve you. I deserve to be punished. I’m lucky to have you.” I search your eyes, begging for you to understand. You turn your face away from me. “It’s a very sad, indeed, when I hear my love say those words. They’re not like you.” Your face is a mask of sympathy and regret. “You can do so much better…” The words immediately register as lies in my head. Of course, I can’t do better. I'm despicable. But… when did I start to think like this? Before, I never thought of myself as hideous and disgusting. But, before what? Before… you. The answer hits me like a rock, and I look up into your eyes, a sob escaping my lips. “But I love you. What can I do? I can’t escape this. I can’t just leave.” You shake your head, sadly. “He’s not the one you fell in love with. He’s different then you thought. You may love him. And he may want you to need him. But do you really?” I realize it may be a bit strange hearing words coming from your mouth that are meant to condemn you, but they make sense. I look up, into your bright, clear eyes. None of the anger that I’ve grown to know is in your face. This is the person I fell in love with. The one in my dreams, not the one that is in my life now. “People can change, love.” You whisper in my hair as I feel my dream slipping away.

[Is this how you wanna go down, right before my eyes? You are the saddest sight I know. And you’re quiet. You never make a sound. But, deep inside my mind, you are the loudest one I know.]

You are sitting right in front of me. You’re not a dream this time. Your eyes are brimming with apology. I look down at my hands. They are bandaged heavily, and I assume that you were the one to fix them. You start to whisper the familiar words, “I’m sorry, I need you. I’m sorry.” I close my eyes and let them sink in, waiting for my usual ready forgiveness to overwhelm me. But, it doesn’t come as quick as usual. I open my eyes to stare at you. “I thought you loved me.” I accuse, sliding away from you. Your eyes go round with shock. I never talk to you like this. “I do. I love you.” The words sound forced. Your eyes are misting, desperate for me to forgive you. You move closer to me, your hand on my thigh. I close my eyes at the feeling. Almost… almost just forget about everything. About your hands descending upon me. About the reflection I saw in the mirror. I almost forgive you. But this time, I don’t.

[Quote. “Hey, listen, because I’ll only say this once. I finally found the words that mean enough to me. Goodbye, my soul.” Unquote.]

“No.” The word makes your eyes go wide with shock. I’ve never said that to you. “No, what?” You ask me, moving closer to me. I stand up, letting you fall to the ground. The shaking starts. I shake with rage, with sorrow, with pity, with love. “You don’t love me. You don’t need me. And I don’t need you anymore.” My voice wavers, but I speak with conviction, staring straight into your eyes. Your mouth hangs open, as you rush to deny it, but I beat you to speaking. “I love you. But I don’t need this. You’re not the boy I fell in love with. I won’t take it any longer.” I start to walk away, before I turn around and change my mind, and go flying back into your arms. “You can’t leave me!” I hear you call. “I need you. You need me, you’ll see!” The shakes keep up, as I turn around, staring straight into your green eyes, whispering the words I thought I’d never say, “Good… bye.” I don’t look back.





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