Even though he was gone he could still sneak up on me. When I was sleeping, when I was dreaming, there was no barrier, no wall I could put up to protect myself from him. He came crawling out of my head, out of my memories of him. His eyes green like the depths of the sea, his smile more beautiful than ever before, his skin like fragile porcelain but cold, oh so cold. Accusingly he would point at me with his fingers, grab me by my arms and shake me until my teeth were chattering. His once so lovely voice shrill with blame and hatred. Not with actions but with unspoken words and haunting looks he would torture me until I was crying - desperately. I would drown in an ocean of his blood, be sucked into a huge vortex from which there was no escaping. Becoming smaller and smaller while he seemed to be growing, rising above me with his eyes glued to mine, never leaving them for a second as if he wanted me to suffer, as if he enjoyed my pain. A strangely distorted version of the man I used to love. He was never like that in real life and I will never, never understand why my mind decided to picture him like that.
Created: Dec 03, 2010Mrs Hock Document Media