Till death do us part

Trigger warning: Themes of suicide and drug abuse.

I regret looking her way because now, I am addicted; she's drawing me in, absorbing me. We are becoming the same person, fusing together. I am transforming into the one thing I refused to be. All because of her. She is changing me, but I consented to be damned. I allowed her to consume me so we could be one. I could have chosen him instead, but the only happiness he offered was so far away. She may damage my lungs and only last an hour, but I crave that hour of pure bliss. Her voice whispers in my ear, dripping with sin, offering me an hour of paradise where all my problems slip away. He, however, offered me future happiness and gain, but that would only come with years of torture and labour.

For years, I refused to become her, but her beautiful voice snaked into my mind. I love her; she has become the only thing that saved me from the ruthless world outside of our quiet oasis. Despite the Utopia I indulge in thanks to her beauty, she has destroyed my life. She devoured every penny I had saved and isolated me from the people whom I once loved. She mutters in the back of my mind, revealing how they all think of me now, they have all turned against me, they only wish to break me and take her away from me. So be it, if they all hate me, I can hate them too. I will stow away with her in my apartment until the day I die, whenever that day comes. It may come soon, it may be far away. Sometimes I ponder what may save me from my suffering, because although she is beautiful, she is evil. Her voice is like a serpent slithering into my mind and filling it with deception. I am easily manipulated into loving her because now that we are one, I will never be rid of her. The regret of following her siren song crushed my hopes and dreams, but this was followed by her loving touch and reassurance.

I am obsessed with her majestic nature, but I must be careful. To overindulge will end with my soul being ripped from my body as I succumb to the afterlife. The further I travel into my life with her, the more I wonder where I'd be now if I had chosen him. I'd have gone so far that I'd be someone's boss, someone's idol, someone's love. However, I am forgotten, lost in my mind. I could have excelled at my education and had a successful life full of joy, despite the hardship it would have taken. Except, I can't go back and change my mind. I can’t be the man my ten-year-old self once dreamed I would be. I can only be the man I feared I would become. I never understood how someone could continue to make those bad decisions until they had nothing. Except now I understand, but I don’t have anything, I have her. So all those men and women cast out onto the streets were never truly alone because they had her, just like I have her now. You can never be alone if you have someone to kiss away all your problems and engulf you in pure bliss.

Every day the wonders of what I could have been and what I am drown me. My life has come to sitting in the corner of the shitty apartment I could barely afford and indulging in her warm embrace. She whispers sweet, consoling words, and they soften the sharp edges of my thoughts. She holds me while I weep, cheers with me when I laugh, and protects me when I am feeling afraid. I’m always scared, but she blocks out the outside world that’s attempting to creep in and get rid of her. She’s mine, all mine. I have nothing else, so I will never let her go. No bed, no food, no water, no warmth, but she is my bed, she is my food, she is my water, and she is my warmth. Forever comforting the harsh blows of the cruel world around me. I love her with every ounce of my heart, and she loves me, even the ugly parts she created. Like my beady eyes, my frail bones, my weakness, and my sunken features. No one will ever love me like she does.

I shall never die at the hands of her vile character. That is the only promise I can stick to while under her influence. There is nothing she can say that will ever rid me of that vow. We are man and wife, but when I die, I wish to be old and surrounded by those I love, except her. I know that will never happen. I am too far in. I have sunk too far into her pit of doom. I can’t let her take my life; that is the only part of me she can never have. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that that part of myself stays mine. If I die, I’d rather my blood be on my own hands than destroyed by her. With every breath, blink and movement, I feel myself deteriorating. I know it's coming. I wish I had more time, but I don’t, and I will never have time again. I shattered every chance I had to leave her and ask him to take my hand and save me from this mess and restore everything I have lost. Except my desire for freedom was too strong, and she was too cunning, like a fox preying on a small rabbit. I promised myself she could never take my life, and she never will.

Now I am chasing the next cloud of ecstasy in this sky of sorrow. I sit here in my room on the floor because I have nothing. Everything I once owned is gone, stripped clean to satisfy her. What is the point of life if all I have is her? If I can't change now, then I never will. I don't know when my suffering will end, so what is the point of life when all I have is her? What is the point of life when all I have is her? I want to end the pain, end the suffering, end her and the loneliness that is consuming my life. I guess all those speeches that people attempted to drill into our brains as kids would have been worth it if only I had listened. They were right, choosing drugs over education and success only ends in my death. All I have is her, to love and to hold, till death do us part. So let us part.