It’s as simple as that, really. Whenever I see him my heart starts beating faster and I can hardly breathe, my ribs feel like they’re going to shatter with the intensity of the emotion I’m feeling. It’s like all the best emotions mixed together into one, making me happy enough to levitate off the ground. Everything about him is perfect, not a single flaw to be found. His love makes me love myself, accept myself. It gives me confidence as much as it gives me happiness. When he holds my hand, I feel complete, like our fingers were made to go together. Everything I do feels like it’s for him, like I wouldn’t exist without him at all.
When he hits me for the first time, it feels like the floor has been knocked from under my feet, like I’ve missed a step going downstairs. My ears ring and it’s like there’s no gravity. But that’s just the first time. When he does it again, I’m angry, grinding my teeth and glaring at him, a red film in front of my eyes. It might, however, just be the blood, I don’t know. In those moments I absolutely loathe him, hate him so much I could strangle him if I were strong enough. True hate cannot be expressed in words, because that’s the nature of hate – it’s an emotion so strong it makes you speechless. Maybe true love is like that too. I hate him as much as he makes me hate myself, but every time he hurts me it somehow feels like true love. I hate how he makes me feel – worthless, powerless and wretched.
I love him more than anything in the world and detest him just as much. Someday he might kill me. But that’s ok, because I’m sure it’s going to feel like a kiss.
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