Pretty Poison

Pretty poison lurks, hidden on my phone, light gleaming through its toxic, yet enticing depths.

It makes me sick to my stomach to think about all the pain I went through because of E…and yet…

There is a subtle allure in the intentness of his purpose.

I’ve forgotten how it feels to be wanted so desperately.

And still, I sit here, crying, knowing that if I were to say even one word, I would unravel all the work I’ve done to repair the damage he caused me.

I can’t go back.

And yet, like an addict…I yearn for that feeling again.

I wish he would just go, leave me alone & not return, so I could stop remembering and missing how he made me feel at one time. Because he also tore me apart, and left me to deal with the afternoon, alone.

Always alone.

I just want this part of the nightmare to end… I’m so tired of being alone.

I discovered tonight that “spam” texts don’t actually disappear…they just get tucked away…but they’re still on the damn phone, daring me to read them.

Daring me to drink that pretty poison, and be damned…