Drip. I hate his guts.
Drop. Why is it always raining?
Drip. I could care less about him.
Drop. He can go die in a hole.
Drip. Why did we leave each other?
Drop. I don’t want to remember.

The way we loved was a fire that burned so bright, a fire not even water could douse. The red flags waved everywhere when we were together, but I waved them away, confident in what we had.

You know better. Focus. You don’t even know him. Stop this now. Voices echoed in my mind, warning, warning, warning. But I silenced them like I silenced all my friends. I gave away my friends for this, this love that was ate me to pieces and tore away everything I had. He did not want anyone near me – he only wanted him, to touch me, to feel me, to do what he could and what he wanted. I thought it was love.  I was too late to realize that it wasn’t.

I love you. You are the light of my life. You are the one for me. Lies. All of these – lies. Why was I so gullible? Why did I fall into the traps of his hands and let them hold me so tightly? His hands were too clammy to be warm; his eyes were too lustful to be beautiful. How could I have ever loved him? How could I move on?

Now that the fire had finally burned out, the rain started to pour. Perhaps it was compensating for the love it could not put out. But every raindrop could not heal the burns on my heart. Every drip opened a new wound, every drop made me bleed all over again. Would I ever heal? Only the rain would tell.