Broken Inside (extended writing-Tabitha Suzuma-Forbidden.)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
So if you have ever read the book Forbidden by Tabitha Suzuma, you will understand this a bit more, and will probably connect with it more also. It is basically Maya's monologue. I wrote something similar to this for my CA in English; it was a monologue, and like this one, didn't really have a structure because it is an emotional out-poor, but this one is simpler and shorter. I thought that I should just upload something easy first. So, this is just Maya's emotions.

Submitted: August 04, 2012

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Submitted: August 04, 2012

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People think that I am normal. Incorrect. People think that I am happy. Incorrect. People think that I am complete. Incorrect. How can anyone think this to be me, when I am broken inside? People don’t know about my obscene actions. However much I loved him, people won’t, can’t know. The love that once filled me with euphoria has now left me with compunction. My desultory life. Although people comfort me, it can’t help. The only way to end my pain is to end my life. These surreptitious feelings are killing me alone, I’m just a shell. Physically, I bare resemblance to myself, but internally I am nothing, just a waste. He underestimated me, he thought that I could do it, that I could live without him, that I could take care of the children and mend out broken family. He knew nothing of my incompetence. We refused to conform to the restrictions of society, we let our emotions over throw us, ruin us. We got torn apart. Now I’m torn apart. No one can even begin to imagine the bereavement his depredatious act is causing me. He took his own life so that I could live mine, but when he dies, he left me with no reason to live. My life is amorphous, I can’t take care of the children, they would be far better off if I were dead and they were handed over to social services. Although I know this isn’t an option. Despite how much pain it has caused me, his act was one of concession. He gave his life to me and I can’t kill him. The children do need me, they still want me however they need love that I have scant to provide. How can I love them when I hate myself? Never the less, the truth is this: I have a horrible unstable ghastly life, but it is exactly that…life! I will live for him-though I feel that I can’t live without him-I will live for the children, I need to and I must. In addition to this, is my fortitude towards him and I concede to the idea that I cannot was a life that he has given to me, to the family. Still I feel that I can’t do it, I can’t live by just going through the motions, I need to feel but when I open myself up, I am greeted by a wall of concentrated solid pain. A pain so fierce and strong that it numbs all other emotions, and I lose the ability to function. Because of all of this, I am compelled to switch off my emotions. Though I am sure that he never meant this to be seen as an act of malice, I sometimes see it as that-but then I remember, it was a harsh act of benevolence. My respect for him will never die, nor will my love. I will remain strong for the memory of him, for the children’s sake, for my own sake, I must. I will pick up the pieces of what is left of our family, and I will bring them back together ti form one again. However, I know that is impossible for me to ever feel complete. Without you, I can’t be fixed. So I shall remain as this, broken inside. 


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