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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
What I have become

Submitted: August 17, 2017

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Submitted: August 17, 2017

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So I kept telling myself I deserved better, but the fact that I didn't believe it didn't make the pain any less. Cupid was a bit careless, shooting at me with his arrows without consideration of the pain it caused. So now I am back where I started, several heart wrecks later, its not so apparent now cause over time I learned to pretend, smile when I ought to be crying and laugh when I felt so much resentment. My counselor had called it survival mechanisms, but what's life without love? Life is love and love is pain, but something about it has to be the reason for all the excitement. That thing that makes a battered wife stay, I want it, even if for just a while. Hopefully it will make me believe again cause now all I want is to be alone, in my little cage, trapped but safe from all the pain I think. No! I'm not safe from any pain, my heart still weeps. My cage protects me from cupid and his stupid arrows. Oh! The pain it brings, just thinking about it brings cold shivers running down my spine...
 
But I must be brave, if not for myself but for her. What comfort will it bring her to see the fear in my eyes? I should be her hero, her messiah. How can I tell her it will be fine if I am not fine? How can I give her those soothing hugs when I am here trying to assure myself of my safety? She looks up to me, not because I am taller. I am her solace, her haven, but I am such a mess. She mustn't know else she'd probably walk away like the others before her, never to look back... Could they all have been wrong? Or is there something wrong with me? I tried, I know I did. I was never enough, nothing I did was right. The beginnings were always sweet, long hours on the phone and kisses floating from miles away to warm my cheeks. Then it turned sour, and she started to see all my flaws. I always felt like a damsel who had been stripped-off of her clothes for stealing something they couldn't pay for. I was naked and I grew cold. She never tried to cover my shame, but joined the

crowd hauling stones and calling me names. Maybe I did feel that extra thing, cause I never left, never. Sadly I never learned, along came another and the cycle started over. Cupid must be having fun, watching everything that made me happy once, being torn away. I have no regrets, but I must remain in my cage and continue to suffer in silence. I can only pray she finds her hero, I can save no one not even myself.


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