Twenty-four hours. Twenty and an additional four hours. A full day. The day after my suicide.
Everything felt empty, numb, unreal even but who was I to even care? I never felt real, nothing ever did. It felt like everything around me was simply staged and I was apart of a stupid television show. Which character would I be? The one everyone hated, judged, made fun of: The main character. The main character of my own stupid and foolish story.
I was the one ruling it. Deciding each path i would chose towards a new faith, right?
Was I the one who chose to be so seductive to her eyes, too? Maybe I was,she always told me how special she felt, looking at my hot body, roaming her hands all over it whilst I kept my silence. How ungrateful of me to complain when I was given such beauty. How ungrateful of me to be disgusted towards those flirtatious advances of her, when she would say the things she would do to me. Fuck me senseless, eat me out roughly, isn't it was you wanted? To be loved sexually by a woman?
You always claimed to hate the male, even though you would see it until you die, why are you so sad? Why does it affect you so much?
She played you. She manipulated you for years and you didn't even notice it, obviously. You kept going back to her saying she'd change even though she kept disappointing you with another disgusting act of her. Despise multiple attempts from your friends that kept telling you to leave her, you stayed. You disappointed them so much with the simple words "I talked to her again". How stupid.
You can't help but to grow attached, no matter how long the abuse lasted. She abused you, why would you stay with her? Because you hated how happy she was. You hated her so much you needed to ruin her in some way but you never figured out how you would do it.
After all,
You were her beautiful 'girlfriend', weren't you?
All those memories flashed infront of you.
One pill.
Her hands around your body.
Three pills.
The way she looked at you with only lust.
Seven pills.
The way she manipulated you until you were blind.
A knife through your heart.
The silence.
Twenty pills.
The way you froze.
Twenty-four pills.
God I wish I never met her.
