Woman Down

What’s strange is that it feels as if he did those things in a book and not in my real life. We forgive our characters for much worse than we’d forgive our friends and lovers, and I feel like I’m lending him the forgiveness I’d lend a character rather than an actual person in my life.

I hate myself right now. I hate that I feel like two different people, warring over a monster.

His gaze lingers on my mouth, his lips parting slightly, and for a brief second, I’m reminded of his taste. I want to spit the taste out. I want to delete it from my memory. I want every reminder of his touch and his mouth gone from my mind completely.