![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
You had a problem with leaving in relationships, even when it wasn't good for you, and I had a problem with staying in one. By the time I met you, I must have left a dozen relationships within a span of four months. You were just beginning to pick up the pieces from where a brutal cocaine addiction had left you shattered. We weren't good for each other, and we didn't have a lot in common either. But I think at the time, we were what we both needed.
We both needed acceptance, which was hard to come by at the time. Former coke addict and town slut weren't exactly good rapsheets to have. But somehow we clicked, drawn to each other like moths to a flame.
Everything was great at first, but all good things come to an end.
Lately, I was having a hard time finding reasons to stay in this strange relationship of ours, which was really more of a companionship than it was a relationship. We had both been so alone that we'd forgotten what it was like to love platonically, mistaking every little look, touch and feeling for love. I wish we had known then.
There was nothing specifically wrong with the relationship, on the outside at least. You were kind, funny, smart. You were a little moody, but so was I. We never fought, never even thought of anyone else. The sex was okay, we were comfortable with each other, even though it was never exactly thrilling. It was vanilla, but vanilla was nice sometimes.
But I felt trapped. Like I couldn't leave because if I did, who knows what you would do. You'd go back to coke, back to everything you swore you'd never go back to. I didn't want that to happen. You were holding me captive and you didn't even realize it. And I don't blame you. How could you?
Like I said, everything was fine on the outside.
So here I am, laying on your chest and I can feel your heart beating fast. So so fast, I thought you were going to have a heart attack. Despite the warmth of the August heat, and your body laying next to mine, I still felt cold. So, so cold, and I began to shiver.
You asked if I was okay and I pretended not to hear you.
We both needed acceptance, which was hard to come by at the time. Former coke addict and town slut weren't exactly good rapsheets to have. But somehow we clicked, drawn to each other like moths to a flame.
Everything was great at first, but all good things come to an end.
Lately, I was having a hard time finding reasons to stay in this strange relationship of ours, which was really more of a companionship than it was a relationship. We had both been so alone that we'd forgotten what it was like to love platonically, mistaking every little look, touch and feeling for love. I wish we had known then.
There was nothing specifically wrong with the relationship, on the outside at least. You were kind, funny, smart. You were a little moody, but so was I. We never fought, never even thought of anyone else. The sex was okay, we were comfortable with each other, even though it was never exactly thrilling. It was vanilla, but vanilla was nice sometimes.
But I felt trapped. Like I couldn't leave because if I did, who knows what you would do. You'd go back to coke, back to everything you swore you'd never go back to. I didn't want that to happen. You were holding me captive and you didn't even realize it. And I don't blame you. How could you?
Like I said, everything was fine on the outside.
So here I am, laying on your chest and I can feel your heart beating fast. So so fast, I thought you were going to have a heart attack. Despite the warmth of the August heat, and your body laying next to mine, I still felt cold. So, so cold, and I began to shiver.
You asked if I was okay and I pretended not to hear you.
