With Malice

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 08, 2017

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Submitted: August 08, 2017

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Who am I without you? Who is the person that I am somehow supposed to transform into since I left? How is it that everyone keeps telling me how strong I am, when I feel like weakest of them all? 

How do I go on when the memories of us cloud my vision wherever I go? I keep seeing you in all of these places, hearing our song on the radio, and I wonder; what are you doing? Are you thinking of me? 

But then I catch myself because, silly me, you were never thinking of me. Every decision you made involved the well-being of no one but yourself. All of the days I had been looking forward to, the ones where I got to see you, they just kind of disappeared.

So why was I surprised when you did the same? I found myself sitting in the shower, water gone from warm to freezing, absolutely broken from the thought of what you had done. Sobbing so hard my brother thought I was dying, I couldn't move a muscle. Everything tightened inside of me and my brain pounded against my skull. The bruises you left painted black and blue, every movement was a knife plunging into me. 

You used my attention to feed your ego until you had drained me of every inch of self-respect and sanity in my body. You told me that we were something, when in reality I mean nothing to you. I never did. You and I thrived off of prejudice. The only reason you would ever glance in my direction is because of some preconceived notion that I was easy. 

I used to look at you with the same glimmer in my eyes that you had when you looked at her.  Realistically, we were nothing but wasted words. And now I cannot unhear what you said, and I can't unsee you the way I do now. And the way I see you? Is with malice. 


© Copyright 2017 Paige P. All rights reserved.

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