“So”, she asked me, “did you love him?”

I thought back, to every time I would tell him to be careful going home. To every kiss he’d force out of me. To the times I fell asleep with my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, feeling his pulse through the shirts he wore, only to wake up to a cold bed and an even colder ‘get up already’. I recalled his fingers running down my spine, breath against my neck and lips against mine. I remembered his yells of  ‘whore!’ directed at me, at my friends, the door slamming, the echoing sobs that left scars on my memories of our tiled bathroom floors. I thought about what love meant, what I used to think love meant to me.

“No.” I told her. “I never loved him.

———–

A beautiful write. You can’t deny it. 

This was written by Allie, and for seven other times, you’re going to taste the goodness of her writings, on my blog. A guest post if you would rather.

This is something you can call… Excerpts from the heart😉😉, and really, who doesn’t like stuff like that?

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