whirlwind

I realized that if the abuser read all our messages, he might know this place. Do you read my stuff, abuser? Yes, she was in Vienna the past week. Yes, she will spend the next week here.

Did something, anything happen?

Ask her. Maybe she’ll tell you nothing happened. Maybe she’ll tell you that we talked. Maybe she’ll tell you we nearly devoured each other. Maybe she’ll tell you we fucked all the time.

The truth?

Her smell, her hair, her laugh, her way of looking mockingly are all ingrained into my thoughts.

Whatever happened, whatever will happen, she is a part of me now.

And I love her.