Artwork by ~nova-flux
You've filled me with nightmares, and I can't get rid of them. When I feel like I am totally solid and safe, you creep into my mind with the memories of what happened between us. They come to me and infect me, and I begin to hate myself again. I don't love you anymore, but it doesn't change the fact that the terrors and memories won't go away.
I close my eyes, and I see it all as if I am right there and I can't escape. I remember being in the hot tub, surrounded by the warm water and bubbles, the large open bathroom and stained glass window next to us. No one would think of such a setting as haunting, and at the time I thought it was Heaven. But the memories as they play back, they are my Hell. I remember wrapping my arms around you, our naked bodies together as I cradled you against my chest and felt your wet hair against my shoulder as we watched the TV in the corner of the room. I remember the smell of the bubbles, the smell of your skin. The droplets of water beaded on the crook of your neck. Your lips and how they looked when moist. I used to think those lips were my morphine, that those lips saved my life. It's funny, how those lips had been just another thing that lured me in, the thing that helped you plant the seed of infection into my soul, giving me this disease I now struggle to defeat and survive. I remember how while we were just simply snuggling in those warm waters, you began to reach back, touching my thighs with your pruned fingertips. Aching to feel me, to feel what no other man had felt but you. Was I a trophy? You turned around, and I can remember it all as if the whole memory were lived in slow motion. Your body rising before settling as you had come to face me, a devilish look on your moist features. Your eyes met mine, as you put your hands near me, and pulled my hips towards you.
Something about me will always hate you for the nightmares you've given me. When I look back, I feel like you used sex as a way to deliver the essence of darkness into my soul. While so deceived, it felt so right, so good, so in love. You promised me you'd date me, you promised me it was not the last time I'd see you. But you were like every other man in my life. Every other boyfriend, every other friend, every father-figure and beyond. You couldn't keep your promises. They were hollow and cold, and simply ties in which you strung to later hang me by.
I remember our first time. I remember my first time. I remember how I thought you were my soulmate, how you said you loved me in my ear. How we hadn't even been together 24 hours yet. Not even ten. How I laid in that bed and felt like finally I had found someone to trust. I remember reaching between my legs, touching my womanhood and remembering how soft the skin felt and how I felt like I were doing right by myself to give away the virginity that lay not just inside of my walls, but inside of my soul and heart. I remember feeling you push into me, I remember the sudden sensation of being bonded to someone and wanting that bond to last a lifetime. I remember clinging to you, and even though it was my first time, I remember wanting to please you. I remembered that the best thing about making love was knowing I was making the love of my life happy. When I take away those feelings... It was...
Sick. Disgusting. Looking back, those memories are edged with poison that creeps to the center though the focus of my memories is so clear and untainted that it only enhances how harmful they really are. I remember you leaning in, whispering that you were so in love with me as you had sex with me. I remember everything sadly. I wish I could go back. Erase them. Delete them. Give them to someone else. Not care. Not act like it meant the world to me to finally trust a man the way I trusted you.
I remember laying in bed with you afterward, in your bed one night. I had wrapped my arms around you and held you close to me, like I would never let go. You will never find a woman to touch you with such a caring embrace again. You will never have a woman who wants to protect and love you the way I tried to. I remember I would not sleep those nights. I stayed up and listened to your heartbeat; it sounded like thunder in the silence of the room, and my own was a softer melody that it gave bass to. The blue lights of your computer stirred with opalescent moonlight. Back then, it made you look heavenly and angelic. Now it made you look like an incubus. You were a demon, with your perfect lean body and beautiful features. You were a wolf, and I was a sheep, and you got me. Sweet spoken and graceful, you have finally done it. I feel it now. The numbness is gone, and I can feel where your jaws dug into my insides and crushed what was within me.
I remember the day you left. I sat in the bottom of our hotel shower, my legs wrapped around you as you leaned back against me. The water ran over our skin, and I had my arms around you. There was total silence as we laid in the floor of the shower for what was perhaps an hour. I remember wishing over and over again that the time in there would never end. That we'd never get up. That the world outside of that wooden bathroom door would just disappear, and leave us. I knew what I had given you, and I was so faithfully sure that you would hold that fragile heart with care. You promised me you wouldn't hurt me.
You lied.
Apart of me will always want your friendship, simply because I can act more mature of it all, and realize that I don't want to give someone so much of me and lose them completely. I will always want to be your friend to some degree. But apart of me will always hate you for what you did to me. Apart of me knows, one day when you have another woman with you, you will feel the difference. She will never trace her hands over you with the love and analytical grace that I did. She will never hold you even when you are strong, just so that she can ensure you understand what she would do for you and how she loves you. She will never make love to you the way I did. She, no matter who she is, will never give you the passion or the creativity that I did, with the love that I did. You will never find another like me. I wonder when you will realize what you have lost, if you ever realize it at all.
I wish I could get rid of the memories... They haunt me so much... These nightmares you gave to me... Sometimes I wish I didn't remember at all. Sometimes I wish I had never touched you at all. It would've saved me so much pain and sanity. If I could just feel right again, as if there was not a black viral sickness inside of me, that every now and again flares as if to make me feel like I'm turning into a brimstone cast of the woman I was when I had so much hope and was pure of your illness and dark love.
I will be pure again one day. But how long will it take me to get over the disease? No one can quite understand the exact situation. These words underestimate it all. I don't love you. I am almost to the point of hating you fully, but I refrain because I don't wish to hate anyone, and I already hate too many people by only hating two. But you did a bad, horrible thing to me. I hope you forever hate yourself for what you've done to me. Because I hate myself for it.
-Eternity
