"Do you love me?"
He looked up at her, he had been fiddling with his keys, slowing twisting the head of the Yoda figure on the ring, the paint had already turned a mottled green in certain places from the incessant touching.
"Wha?"
Diane hated when he did that, cutting off his words. He called it dope, she called it stupid.
" 'course babe, always"
She smiled, he always had that gruff bear love thing going. Always trying to be manly and all that, but she knew he was puree inside, just plain puree.
"Diane?!"
"Diane?!"
Diane?!
She turned as a fist slammed onto her desk. her eyes slowly trailed from the bulging veins in his arm and to the bloodshot eyes, the skin around it twitching erratically. Diane had never seen those eyes before, wild, mad.
"I've been calling your name? Do you not know your own name?"
"I'm sorry, Jude was teaching me stuff, so we were...."
"shut the fuck up bitch"
what...
and he stalked away.
They became more frequent, the little bouts of rage, of madness, of hate. But she stayed...maybe the stress of school was getting to him, maybe his family wasn't okay, maybe she was doing something wrong, just maybe. And she held on to that lifeline, held on tight, even as it frayed, string by string, weak strand by weak strand. Until it snapped.
They were outside a club, and he was gripping her arm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, drawing blood. Diana stared as the shiny drops curve around his nails and filled the crescent shaped indents they made. It was mezmerizng, the red...
He slapped her.
"....at me when I'm talking to you, how dare you speak to another guy? and I was right there. You worthless whore, slut...har.. "
She started walking way, fuck this shit, no one should treat her like dirt, not even him. She was leaving, it was over. She hadn't walked far, just a few steps on her high heels, when his hands closed around her throat, and she found herself slammed against the wall, feet dangling inches from the ground.
He punched her, and punched and punched, and just when she was about to slip into the bliss of unconsciousness, he flung her away from him. He let her coil into a ball, before he opened his wallet and flung change at her.
"That's for your ride to hell, ho!"
A hundred missed calls, a thousand messages. So many many flowers. He was sorry, he was wrong, it would never happen again. Her friends cussed him out, told her to stay strong, fed her chocolate, tried to make her laugh.
They tried, they really did. But no one would love her liked he did. No one.
This is not fiction, although names have been changed.
It's okay to be weak, it's okay to be blinded with that false love. It's okay to be confused. We are human, we can't always be strong, but I pray you find the right path... before its too late.
I wish you guys an awesome week!
