Come Inside, Come Around

I lay there on the bed-vulnerable like a domesticated animal. He wasn't around. He never was and he never will be. My eyes red and puffy from all the crying and my throat sore, I wondered why my life had come down to this. I was losing all control and like a diseased limb, I realised that I had to cut myself off from his toxic behaviour, before it was too late.

There were many firsts with him, things I now wish I had saved for someone else, someone who will take better care of me. But what do you do when your heart is broken over and over again by the same person who promises you that this infact is the last time?

Men often prove their superiority over you by making you feel like a whore and he was no exception. I let him come inside me-a first (and probably the last too) and while I could feel a connection as he thrust his manhood into me, it was only temporary. I was discarded like garbage the minute he pulled out. He was done. The act was over. I meant nothing to him anymore. That was all there was to it-I was his sex doll.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I was alone in a room far away from home. He was right outside laughing smoking drinking and having the best possible birthday one could ask for. I was his trophy on display that he left for others to see. He didn't hug me to sleep like I thought he would. He didn't comfort me even though he knew that that night was a milestone in my life. He didn't defend my honour. He didn't defend my pride. He didn't defend my womanhood. I was his prostitute. I was his slave. It had always been that way. I was too blind to see otherwise. But I know now. My epiphany, though painful, happened during these last few days. I cannot control how people behave with me but I can control who is in my life and who isn't. It hurts like hell, but I have to let go off people who don't and can't take care of me. It's not worth the pain.

It hurts when people let you down. It hurts when someone you try to make love to ends up leaving you feel like nothing but an outlet for their sexual appetite. I was probably only just that to him. Everything else was lies-lies that he rambled to get what he wanted from me-my body.

I am no longer attracted to him and I no longer crave for him. I may be wounded and my heart may have this void but I guess it's better to suffer alone than be with someone who doesn't treat you right.
They say that being brave and keeping your heart open to love is like playing Russian Roulette these days. I've been shot down over and over again. It's okay though. I still have a lot of love to give to this world, it doesn't matter if it's not him. Someone else will come along in my life soon. I can sense it.

When he tries to kiss the next girl in his life, I hope he remembers the pain he caused me and I hope he can't shut memories of me lying on the bed weak and vulnerable when he thrusts into the next girl. I hope he becomes a better person some day. I can't wait forever though.
I've moved on.
I'm gone.