Warm like summers.
Passion is a scary thing when lust is involved
When love is fueled by hatred
When the relationship is run by anger
Mathew the man of my dreams is my kryptonite and I am his dynamite.
In all honesty, people call us crazy because our love is different and it challenges people to speak their minds, to release their anguish.
I stab him in the back and tell him he's worthless and each time he believes me. I say that's love because every time I push him to the floor he comes crawling back desperately wanting to clench to my chest.
I'm not the bad guy, just a sad girl who didn't know any better. Mathew isn't perfect like glass. His words hit my soul. His words cause fires to blaze in my heart, not in a good way. He drags me by the hair and smashes my head into walls but that's how he shows his love.
Over time we realized just how much hurt we had caused, how much damage we had inflicted upon one another. I couldn't go out any more worried people would see all the many bruises that his hands cultivate. I didn't want them to see him that way.
Many don't know what lives behind the smiles we portray. When you love someone enough that you intentionally hurt them, that's when you know you got it bad.
Mathew once said "You're a dragonfly that never goes away, buzz like bees and sting like wasps. " I didn't understand what he meant till now. It was me who truly didn't want to let go. I had the upper hand. It was me that caused 'us' in the first place. At the time my only response was "You're a sunflower bright as can be, sly like a scorpion and fragile like glass" Even though I had a great love for him I always wanted to hurt him and wipe smiles off his face while he just wanted my smiles to stay.
It all came crashing down when Mathew chose to run away. Runaway from me. We hadn't spoken after our big fight and he grew tired of the silence. All I did was worry, wondering if he might have died.
Mathew never came back that day. Wherever he went I suppose was more fulfilling than here with me, his love. My tears could shower the sky for months on end but by this time there were no tears left to cry.
There was no longer any him and I. It was only me.
If only someone taught me the right way to love. I could have loved him properly and he could have loved me the right way too. I went in thinking we could mend our broken hearts together but this was a fight we each had to go alone.
When people call his name I smile because I can only think of the good times. In the beginning, when things were easy and we were determined to be ONE. Those memories are distant but ever so often I get a hold of them. There is one day, in particular, I am very fond of. Summers at his family beach house, two happy teens splashing about later collecting shells to count to pass time. Tender kisses that grew hearts and warm hugs that ensured security. Smiles that were genuine and words with good intent. I would do anything to get us back there but my dynamite has disappeared and his once kryptonite has been decimated.
𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚜.
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