She moaned towards orgasm, every thrust closer than the last. She doesn't say “Oh Anthony" because she really could care less about my name, or maybe its just too early to tell. On the outside, “Im the best thing she's had since she was in her early 20s (now 47) but on the inside I'm weeping. “Maybe she will love me, if I can give her 12 orgasms? 15? 20?” I think Naively to myself. I seem to have this “distorted perception" that I can open a heart with a key (The key being my penis in this example) the saddest part is that I know Its not possible, but I refuse to give up hope. She is what I'd call walking beauty. A 4"8 blonde that smile could brighten your day. Shes very smart and she loves to look pretty. Her heart comes with duct tape and super glue. She has been “traumatized" by bad social paths whom have taken almost everything from her. A few still call occasionally to “check in" and “make sure that pussy is still theirs" Most of these guys hold no significant power over her except for one. The husband. He was supposed to be everything she had dreamed of back in “91" when she met him. She fell deep, unfortunately before she caught onto the “drug problems, cheating, bad lifestyle" she was pregnant. She tried to make it work and to her credit she could sway him back towards the real world for a bit. Until her second pregnancy. At this point he looked at her as a woman looks at a tampon. “Let it soak up all the bad and throw it away" was his method of thinking. Growing up religious with a Baptist father preacher, divorce was a sin in her mind. So she stayed, working a great job as a pharmacist but the dominos had already been placed. He was lost in the drugs at this point, Math being his go to. When his wasn't getting high he was fighting with her beating her in front of the kids. One night hopeless staggered into her life and said “why fight it? Life is shit, and your no better, besides nobody is going to want your fat ass" That night he shot her up in the back of the neck and she was Alive “she thought" Before long the pain didn't faze her. They came and took her babies away, she was mildly fazed. Her Husband moved in his girlfriend and mind fucked her into believing it was a 3-way relationship. She was stealing drugs from the pharmacy to support their habit, but was caught. This time he was not there to watch her fall, nor did he pretend to help her up. He was gone with her “replacement" She decided enough was enough and started a program. He tugged on her heartstrings though. It was the first man she really loved and she couldn't let him go, even though he had replaced her and was teaching their kids to call the new woman mommy. He would keep her just tight enough around her finger that he could always “collect" like a leach he could suck her dry.
Narcistic love is a bitch.. Untreated it will destroy everything over and over. She had family in Ohio. (She was from Oklahoma) She called her sister (who was like a best friend) She tried to get her away from “the life" but love sometimes turns into a sickness. I liked refer to it as “diseased love" It would take a series of unfortunate events and one “strong willed" family to “save her" These events would begin with the husband coming back around just enough time to fuck with her head again. They had went on the only “vacation” they had ever taken. He spent all her hard earned money on the best campsite 30 bucks could buy, because the rest was for meth of course.. The house would “suspiciously" catch unfire that night. Destroying almost all her prize possessions. The fire dept. and Police didn't investigate much further after finding paraphnellia in the house. The insurance payed out a settlement and the husband was definitely there to “collect" He had moved her in with his girlfriend and in her mind she was cracking. “Enough was enough” she thought to herself. Her parents made an eleven hour trip to “save her" They set her up with a place in ohio. Unfortunately the damage was already done. Her kids (now both over 16) despised her after being brainwashed by their father. All the prize possessions that didn't go up in smoke was now with the girlfriend. With all this against her she matched on.
I think the problem is when you are already hurt from a wound to the heart and don't give yourself the proper time to heal, you can get yourself into relationships like or worse than what you already had. I think most of it comes from being “lonely" but, some comes from you just wanting to be “normal again" and asap. Choices aren't thoroughly checked. Instead we commonly “settle" One thing that has always made me so angry is watching these beautiful women close themselves off to great guys/men that would treat them great for these sleezebags ,abusers addicts, cheaters ,ect. They are so scared of the “thought" of being alone in this world, that they would rather sign their soul off for it. I'm a hopeless romantic so after this amazing sex we cuddle. I want so badly to let her in, but I'm scared . Scared of the usual, but in this case I'm scared she doesn't care how I feel. That she doesn't want to know things about me. The most fucked up part about it though, is that if that's the case I understand. Maybe I'd just like to know, so my heart doesn't get put into a blender for nothing. I want to love. I think I could love this woman, and I've been “cursed" ever since I cheated one my first girlfriend that I “catch feelings" after sex like campus sluts catch STDs. I feel like I'm on a edge, where I've been holding on for what seems like an eternity. All I want to do is let go and know my fall will be worth it. I look into her beautiful eyes and I can see a future for her, but for her & who? I'm not so sure. One thing is for sure when your hurt you put your guard up forever. That makes trusting anyone new difficult.
© Adhdishe