About: Love Dies   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : dbkwik.org associated with source dataset(s)

This has all happened to me once before. In fact, more than once has someone taken me into their arms and told me that I was the best thing to ever happen to them. I find love. I find happiness. I’m someone’s favorite everything. It makes me feel so warm, so wonderful, so beautiful… But it never lasts long enough. Once my “shiny newness” wears off, interest is lost and I begin being mistreated, and sometimes even abused. I tolerate this for a while. I was never very good at defending myself. I spend some time crying myself to sleep and contemplating what to do. What do I do when I’m stuck with the pain of being stuck with someone who doesn’t love me anymore?

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rdfs:label
  • Love Dies
rdfs:comment
  • This has all happened to me once before. In fact, more than once has someone taken me into their arms and told me that I was the best thing to ever happen to them. I find love. I find happiness. I’m someone’s favorite everything. It makes me feel so warm, so wonderful, so beautiful… But it never lasts long enough. Once my “shiny newness” wears off, interest is lost and I begin being mistreated, and sometimes even abused. I tolerate this for a while. I was never very good at defending myself. I spend some time crying myself to sleep and contemplating what to do. What do I do when I’m stuck with the pain of being stuck with someone who doesn’t love me anymore?
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dbkwik:creepy-past...iPageUsesTemplate
dbkwik:creepypasta...iPageUsesTemplate
abstract
  • This has all happened to me once before. In fact, more than once has someone taken me into their arms and told me that I was the best thing to ever happen to them. I find love. I find happiness. I’m someone’s favorite everything. It makes me feel so warm, so wonderful, so beautiful… But it never lasts long enough. Once my “shiny newness” wears off, interest is lost and I begin being mistreated, and sometimes even abused. I tolerate this for a while. I was never very good at defending myself. I spend some time crying myself to sleep and contemplating what to do. What do I do when I’m stuck with the pain of being stuck with someone who doesn’t love me anymore? I know when I’m just being kept around for the sex. I may be many things, but I’m no fool. So the cycle begins. After thousands of tears and attempting to reason with him, my voice goes unheard, answered with a slap to the face, only making my knees weak and striking up my tears again. I stare at his eyes. There’s nothing there but cold hatred. How? He used to love me so much. That was gone. Long gone. Now it hurts too much to even try anymore. Not only was my heart breaking, but I was noticing the bruises from the abuse. I didn’t want anyone to see that. I took out my compact mirror from my purse. Five carved scratches were tallied in the upper right hand corner of the magnifying portion. This wouldn’t be the first time I made someone pay, and if men stayed the same, it probably wouldn’t be the last. I would give him three days to change. Three days, and that was it. I might as well get everything out of him that I can while it’s still possible. I went to bed. This time, I wasn’t crying. I was blissfully content.
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