The smallest happinesses in our lives need to be cherished. Sometimes they just vanish too easily. They might run away, only to never return. I knew this from experience. How? I was subjected to a life of misery in the past few months. At times, it felt like an eternity had passed. Day by day, I was slowly dying, burning in the flames of hatred inflicted by this love of mine. I was losing my patience gradually. I didn't think I could keep going, there wasn't enough resolve left in me to survive. The ecstasy in my life was being replaced by a heart-wrenching agony.
The love of my life had been pushing me into the depths of sorrow and pain. He was no longer the man I once loved. He had turned into this cold man that loathed me in his heart, a place where previously only pure love resided. He had hurt me beyond my limits.
There was no more love left between us. The love I once cherished was replaced by a raw pain that felt never ending. He detested me, maliced me. To him, I was a thing of disgust. It hurt me in the most humiliating way. This love of ours that was once so divine was now stained with filthy accusations. There only existed unwanted silence that made me feel hollow. However, the silence was far better than the voices and sounds I heard, sounds that tore me apart strand by strand. My love had vanished; the essence of my happiness was gone.
I lived there inside that house so lost with nothing left worth surviving for. There wasn't anything left for me to rely on. My pain, tears, and sorrow were meant for his amusement and pleasure. It was killing me to stay there with him. He was killing me. Our marriage had turned into a trap to hurt me.
Death seemed more appealing than living this life. I had tried so hard to bring back those happy days, but nothing seemed to change. Now I stood on the last few strands of this love, where it had became my choice to either stay or not, to either believe in my love or his hatred for me. I wanted to believe in the former. I wanted to stay, but I didn't know how long I would be here because my breaking point was so near.
I didn't know how to live. I wanted something to replace this emptiness in my heart. The women I loved had perished. My love for her had faded into this mournful air around me. Now there only remained her pretty face that I once adored, her soft lips that I once kissed, and her brown orbs that once sparkled with love.
My hatred for her was the best thing I had. I loved the way her tears flowed, eyes turned red, skin grew pale. It pleased me to know that she was smoldering in tears and anguish.
She had turned into this person in front of me that I never could have imagined. All I wanted was for her to suffer for her mistakes, for the sins she had committed and I had promised to make her pay for them. I spoke the words that cut her deep, enjoyed the way she withered in pain. I had forced myself to see the demon beneath her face so I could convince my heart that what I was doing was right. I wanted to justify my acts, my hatred, and myself.
I had loved her with all my heart. I even changed myself to make her happy. But then she had changed me into this devil that she couldn't see. I wished to take away her soul and leave her drained. I needed to make her feel what I had felt from her betrayal. I wanted to see the remorse in her eyes that I had felt. It became my need to watch her die as agonizingly as I did. It didn't matter that I was going to the extremes to break, hurt, and humiliate her. Why should it? She had crushed my heart. So now I would take hers and fill it with my own misery. I would torture her with this silence of mine just to destroy her because her life was mine to take.
I knew she saw me, heard me. That was enough for me to know that I was destroying her, breaking her. In front of her, my face was bare of emotions, and I seemed to ignore her very existence. I wanted to show her that she meant nothing to me, that she had lost me. But it always seemed that it wasn't enough to hurt her deeply enough. I yearned to kill the beast she had become.
She had destroyed and torn me into pieces; now I would do the same while relishing her pain.
Writer′ s Note
Intense isn't it.
Something has passed between them that has turned him so cold. Something has masked his sense of seeing straight. All he sees is pain and revenge against the woman he once cherished.
What went wrong what has changed?
What turned a loving couple into a ground of war?
What had happened?
Come along and find out .....
Let me know your views.
Comment on how you felt .........
This work is a pure fiction any resemblance to any person, name or anything, in reality, is just a coincidence.
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An Innocent WifeRomance
Awesome cover by @jinglingnineteen This isn't a story of romantic love where one is transformed through the purest heart of a good woman. This is more of a cautionary tale about the kind of love that destroys a person, leaves them...