Slow Death by Love

From the top of her bleached head to the bottom of her perfectly manicured toes, she had a burning desire that was ever present.

The need to be wanted, to be cared for, to be unconditionally loved and to love in return. When this ache flares up to the point of being unbearable, she makes the treacherous decision to revisit the demons that she’s sworn to have left in the past.

Slipping out into the darkness of the night she begins to be able to breathe again, knowing her high is near.

She inhales deeply and allows the frigid air to pierce her lungs. This feeling of a thousand daggers temporarily relocates the pain she has been burdening in her heart.

She catches sight of his tail lights. Her breath hitches and the numb begins to overtake her body. She slides into the front seat and is met by his hungry bloodshot eyes.

"You’re drunk.”

“You’re high.”

Pulling into his driveway, a feeling of twisted nostalgia washed over her. Her brightest and her horrifically darkest moments all rush back. They walk just close enough to smell each other’s desperation but never close enough to touch.

Just as the door clicks shut he pushes her hard against the wall and grabs a fistful of hair so hard tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes. She lets them roll back into her head and waits until it’s over.

Afterward she pulls on her t-shirt and joins him on the couch. They drink and hit and then she follows him back out to his car. She leans her head against the cool window and waits for the guilt to sink in. She tip toes into her dark house and peels off her clothes, covered in shame.

She sits on the edge of her bed in her pink, clean, perfect room and for the first time all night lets the tears spill onto her cheeks. Her silent sobs racking her body. A marquee of self-hatred runs on loop in her mind. She is coming down from a high so addictive and so wrong that is physically consumes her every day.

She wakes in the morning, showers and dresses. She joins her roommates for a hot breakfast. They all laugh and joke, delighted that it’s Friday. Her smile never falters, but if anyone cared to meet her eyes they would see the torment.

Dead, unfocused, staring out the window at the spot where his tail lights were.

Author's Note

Honest comments and constructive criticism always welcome!

Reviews

[Keerthisree]

I love your writing and the way you use your words is amazing!