My Marilyn Manson Love Story❤

Je suis cassé

Je suis cassé.
Je suis cassé
Je suis cassé
Je suis cassé
Je suis cassé

The French words imprinted in my mind. I'm broken. I was broken. Always have been. People say. You're not broken. You're just bent. You can be fixed. You aren't non-fixable. Sure. You think that. But all the shit I've been through, you definitely would think I'm broken. People have probably went through worse. I'm not important. People don't care about my problems.

Antyway...me and Marilyn had sex, again....for like the fifth time. "I missed you, baby."  He moaned in my ear. I moaned out a weird noise and said "me too." He stopped. "Tell me you love me." My eyes popped open. "What?" I asked sitting up on my elbows. He placed his body on top of mine. He got down real close to my ear. "Tell me. You love me." He said lowly. He licked my neck and sucked at my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned. "Fuck Marilyn." His hands slid down my body. "Tell me now." He purred. "I...I" he was impatient. He kissed me harshly. He didn't even seem like himself anymore. "Say it." He demanded. He departed our lips and looked me deep in the eyes. "You can't can you?" I swallowed and lifted my head up. "I..." I tried to explain. He hopped off of me. "You can't, because you don't. I did this. I did this to you." He pulled his boxers back on. "W...what are you doing?" I sat up again. He turned to face me. "I think you've had your fun with me. You used me." I ran up to him, but he stopped me. "No. I get it. You don't love me." I stepped back and put my hands on my hips. "You know what? You're right. You did this to me. You made me almost kill myself. You made a switch in me flip that wasn't supposed too. Yeah, I did use you for sex. But, I enjoyed it. And you enjoyed it. So shut the fuck up and deal with it you sack of shit."

I put my shirt and shirt back on. I didn't even bother to put my bra or panties back on. I heard Marilyn breathe hard behind me. I turned around one last time. "And you know what? I do love you. And I hate it that I do. There will always be a fucking soft spot in my black heart, and I. Hate. It. So don't tell me I don't love you. Cause that would just be bullshit." I turned and walked off. But before I even got through the door, Marilyn pulled my arm back and threw me on the wall. I gasped in pain. "What the-" I tried to say, but Marilyn's lips crashed down onto mine. I went stiff. I didn't kiss him back. My hands were at my sides. And I just stood there. He licked my lip for an entrance, but I refused.

He finally just pushed his tongue through my mouth. I felt disgusted. Nasty. I felt like I was doing something wrong. I felt like something cheap that walks on the streets. It just didn't feel good. I tried to pull back. "Mar-" is all I got out. "Pleas-" agh!! "Stop!" I finally got out. I pushed him back with all my might. Tears covered my face now. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. "What was that about? You confessed your love to me, and walk off?" I rolled my eyes. "I didn't confess anything. I just...." I felt like I was going to throw up. I put a hand to my mouth and dropped my purse.
I ran to his bedroom and to his bathroom. I flung the door open and threw up. Marilyn came in. "Baby are you okay?" He said crouching down to my level, and rubbing my back. I shrugged him off. "Yeah. I'm fine." I grimaced. "Oh no." And I started again. Marilyn backed up a little bit. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" I looked at him. "No. I'm sick of hospitals and all the sick, almost dead people there." I rolled my eyes and turned my head back to the toilet. "Oh no. Not again." And....it happened....again.

I finally just fell asleep on his bed. He had to carry me, because I was so sick and weak. God, I just want to know what's going on....