He pushed her
He Used her
He thought he owned her
He called her a whore
He hit her
She ended him
I’ve given her countless chances – spent a billion words of text – lapped myself bending over backwards – to help her be fair, and care enough to keep me around.
She can’t control herself – or didn’t believe I’d go for good – one or the other. I feel sad for her – that I blocked her and kept her there. But, it’s all probably just a game = no way to know where the game starts or ends, and I’ve wondered if she’s ever really feeling.
It is lonely either way – but I have to stay gone this time – force myself to adjust to freezing cold. Must not go back to being coldly dangled, under a carrot – over fire.
I believe this is the first post from another blogger – that I’ve ever re-posted on my blog. Nikole’s post was simply too brilliant and meaningful not to share.
“And so, in conclusion, if the end goal, the winning prize, is love, I am willing to carry that cross as far as I have to.”
Source: Pin The Tale On The Scapegoat