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Narc


uniquecliche
Age. 37
Gender. Female
Ethnicity. Cracker
Location Lexington, KY
School. Eastern Kentucky Univ
» More info.
Rehab is for suckers
Drug trafficking





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Hate to Love
Friday. 10.20.06 1:58 pm
watching: n/a
listening to: Tempted by the Fruit of Another - Squeeze
mood: irritated
__________

I want to fall in love. I want my heart broken again. I want it to be broken in a more vicious manner than before.

My ability to trust: shattered.
My ability to care: shattered.
My ability to feel: shattered.
My ability to be: lost.

The words he learned from films and books. The looks he gathered from the poster boys in underwear ads. I want it all. I want the vulnerable, gullable-treatment. I want lust, blood, greed, and pain. I want everything to end up with nothing.

His cool sense of being, his James Dean-like stature, the cigarette he so boldly lets dangle from his beautifully, taut-mouth. That mouth that so many times before whispered its lies that were so easily-to-spot as tactics for betrayal into my inviting ear.

At the chapel we're to be wed. He's taken it this far, now. Here in the House of God we stand cold and far from eachother. A book holds the words we are to repeat carefully to one another and that apparently pledges our undying-love to one another. Tears flow from those in the audience that know this is a mistake. Lying to eachother we claim, "Until death do we part."

All horse shit. Smelly, dirty, lingering horse shit. The smell of your lies I can't wipe away from my life. It's permanent like feline-urine. Every time I sleep with your cold arm around my waist I can't help but think whose waist it was around the night before.

I wonder who she is.

Does she cook better than I do? I enjoyed the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had with tomato soup on the couch while watching the six o'clock news.
Does her cunt grip your cock better than mine? I'm not sorry that our sex life wasn't as active as it was before our jobs took over our lives.
Does she discuss art work, music, film, and books on a higher scale to your liking? Impossible. She must be the shut-up and listen type that hasn't a mind of her own.

These burlesque ideas circle my brian till I finally realize it's you. It's not me. This was all a game to you. I slither out from under your forearm that so many nights before had held me during a rainstorm. We made love while everyone else was sleeping. It was love to me. It was all part of the job for you.

I make my way to the bathroom where the His' and Hers' towels only add to my misery. Our toothbrushes lay propped in the same small cup on the sink. Knowing fully that yours will be in a ziploc bag next to your cufflinks in your suitcase. That same suitcase that my parents bought you for your first business trip after that promotion we both gleamed over. Now I realize that you probably spent that trip in a Holiday Inn with Her.

My blindness causing me to only want to choke the life out of her. This when I know damn well that you were the one that promised not to hurt me, promised to protect me. How laughable is that concept? This woman had no prior knowledge of me most likely. And all I can think of doing is ruining her life. You're the one I should be hurting. I go to the bathroom to cry after realizing my husband has been cheating on me. If I were at all smart I would go to the kitchen and grab the meat cutters.

I sleep in the guest bedroom that we had planned on painting either a pale pink or blue, together. I guess this is the time I come to my senses and thank whoever's responsible for me not carrying your child.

Lifetime network never really prepares you for this. I was a fool for your love. A bloody, goddamned, mindless-fool.

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