He did come back. I just couldn't take it anymore. But he made me weak with one touch, one kiss, one hug. We made love over and over again. We were filled with undying desire. He made me feel electric. Our hearts burned together as one. He needed me as much as I needed him. I loved him more than life, but if this is what true love is supposed to look like, then I would rather hang myself. I couldn't live with a broken heart..I'd die either way...
The day came when I said no. I had to do it for me. I needed to take back what belonged to me. I started with my soul that he stole. It got to the point where there was nothing he could say to make me feel better, to make me believe him or to keep hope alive. Every word felt like a slap on the face, every touch felt like a stab in the heart. It was toxic, addictive. He was my addiction, my drug, my angel who was the devil himself.
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