Chapter thirty-three

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                        One month later

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               One month later

It's been one whole month since me and Rafe broke up. Thirty agonising days since I've last seen him.

I kept to my word, I never fell into his trap like I thought I would've.

Everything reminds me of him, he has and will continue to infiltrate my life for the time being.

Every time I feel myself smiling, i remember all the times he made me smile. Every time I feel myself grow upset or angry, I remember the ways he made me experience those emotions to a whole new level.

It certainly didn't help to see the mounds of pictures I kept of him plastered all over my bedroom walls when I arrived home.

Or the multitude of photos I had of him in my phone.

Yes... he did buy me a new phone. Even in the colour he knew was my favourite.

Everything he's ever touched feels tarnished to me now, the bed I sleep in, the clothes I wear, the air I breathe. Everything.

My body feels numb, my eyes unable to form tears anymore.

I often think of him, wonder how he is, what he's doing.

Sarah tells me he hasn't been good, out almost every night, getting into fights, coming home high as hell or not coming home at all.

That weak, vulnerable girl he moulded me into sometimes has me blaming myself for his actions.

His voice ringing in my ears constantly.

"It's all your fault, it's all your fault"

I know deep down he broke me down into this feeble, weak minded version of myself. That he was bad for me... so, so bad.

But I can't help but yearn for him, like he's got some sort of magnetic pull on my mind and body.

I hear people say there's a thin line between hate and love, and I'm not quite sure where our relationship stood within that line.

I loved him, but god I hated him too.

I hated the way he made me feel about myself, the way my body would give into him so easily.

I hated the way he spoke to me, the way he'd make me feel utterly worthless with just a few words.

I hated the way he had complete control over me.

I hated myself even more for letting him.

These thoughts of pure animosity are often clouded over with my naive and callow concept of love.

I always dreamt of falling in love, the innocent idealisation that I always fantasised about.

I soon realised the love I experienced was dark, it was violent and isolating.

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧Where stories live. Discover now