I Will Take As Many Words As I Want To Write This Story
There really is something wrong with me. I know what it is, but I don’t think I can confront it. It’s like a reflection of my true self that I don’t dare to look at. It’s something about me that tells me that I’m damaging myself, but at the same time, the more I look at it I feel as if I don’t need to see it. I really can’t tell what it is and explaining it is all the more confusing that the truth about myself has been kept buried in my mind. I don’t know what it is, but maybe my mind is telling me something. So I continue to try to make him happy, something I wish to see all the time.
I love holding him in my arms, listening to his heartbeat when he sleeps, it’s romantic. Sometimes he can get aggressive, but most of that’s my fault. He’s such a caring person. To my parents he seem demanding, but I don’t really see it. They’ve told me to leave him, but they just tell me lies about him. He’s never hit me nor has he ever distanced me with my family. We haven’t talked since our last visit. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t want to see them either. We’re almost perfect for each other. They don’t really understand us.
Our money was getting tight, so we moved out of state. I had to live away from everyone I know and trust, but I feel it was for the better. According to him, we’re saving about ten dollars more than what we usually would. That’s great. It was a nice house. I loved it. It was a lot smaller than our old one, but that made it easier to clean and keep ready for guests. Well, if we even had any. We got some of his friends, but they didn’t seem like the type to impress much. One night one of his friends broke a mirror my grandmother gave me. It wasn’t a good mirror anyways. I wanted to make friends, but he was too worried that I might meet some bad people out there. He knows what’s best for me. At least that’s what I believe.
The other day while he was watching the usual shows, I told him I had something special in the oven. He didn’t like that. It was the first time I’ve seen him cry. He didn’t want whatever was in the oven and held me by the shoulders, shivering, begging me to get rid of it. I refused to do that, so he hit me. I didn’t like that, couldn’t fight back, the damn thought didn’t even cross my mind. I stumbled on the floor, scared out of my mind as he threatened to get rid of it himself. There was so much that crossed my mind about that moment that I found myself outside, listening to his cries of sorry, begging me to come back. I didn’t know where to go, but it was anywhere else but here.
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https://similarworlds.com/3724831-I-Challenge-You-to-Challenge-Me-to-Write/2657206-WRITERS-WEEKLY-CHALLENGE-WEEK-OF-MAY-2-2019-WEEK?rid=30725421
I love holding him in my arms, listening to his heartbeat when he sleeps, it’s romantic. Sometimes he can get aggressive, but most of that’s my fault. He’s such a caring person. To my parents he seem demanding, but I don’t really see it. They’ve told me to leave him, but they just tell me lies about him. He’s never hit me nor has he ever distanced me with my family. We haven’t talked since our last visit. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t want to see them either. We’re almost perfect for each other. They don’t really understand us.
Our money was getting tight, so we moved out of state. I had to live away from everyone I know and trust, but I feel it was for the better. According to him, we’re saving about ten dollars more than what we usually would. That’s great. It was a nice house. I loved it. It was a lot smaller than our old one, but that made it easier to clean and keep ready for guests. Well, if we even had any. We got some of his friends, but they didn’t seem like the type to impress much. One night one of his friends broke a mirror my grandmother gave me. It wasn’t a good mirror anyways. I wanted to make friends, but he was too worried that I might meet some bad people out there. He knows what’s best for me. At least that’s what I believe.
The other day while he was watching the usual shows, I told him I had something special in the oven. He didn’t like that. It was the first time I’ve seen him cry. He didn’t want whatever was in the oven and held me by the shoulders, shivering, begging me to get rid of it. I refused to do that, so he hit me. I didn’t like that, couldn’t fight back, the damn thought didn’t even cross my mind. I stumbled on the floor, scared out of my mind as he threatened to get rid of it himself. There was so much that crossed my mind about that moment that I found myself outside, listening to his cries of sorry, begging me to come back. I didn’t know where to go, but it was anywhere else but here.
Reply to:
https://similarworlds.com/3724831-I-Challenge-You-to-Challenge-Me-to-Write/2657206-WRITERS-WEEKLY-CHALLENGE-WEEK-OF-MAY-2-2019-WEEK?rid=30725421
22-25, M
