Stockholm.

I have it on replay in my head. All of the let downs and the screamed comments repeat while I lay in my bed.

I don’t want a love like that. I don’t want to disagree and get kicked until I bleed. I don’t want to defend myself when there shouldn’t be a need.

I don’t want love where I am the outlet. Where hurting me fixes you. Where you get to rage and scream, tell me to go fuck myself but then say that I am mean.

I let you do it on and off for years. Narcissists change long enough to lure back the the girls clothed in fears. I walked into that basement cave again and again. I let you try and strip me of all of my friends.

I don’t want a love where compromise means giving in. I don’t want a love where I’m always bruised within. I don’t want to resent your mother for raising you this way. Or hate your father for not showing you how to behave.

You are a product of your raising but 30 is too old to blame your mother. You choose basements and hate over the hearts of others. 

I don’t want a love like that. I don’t want to be told how I am allowed to be or act. I don’t want a love to try and control my every thought. You are twisted and ill screaming at me everything you think I’m not. 

I think you like to live in the dark. If you can lure in hearts to feed on their souls, you don’t have you try and you don’t have to leave your home. 

I don’t want a love like that anymore. I don’t want to pretend I don’t hurt or that you’ll ever be more.

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10 thoughts on “Stockholm.

  1. Excellent writing! Can I ask why the post is called Stockholm? I hope you have been moving on since this ocurred. I hope you are recovering and find someone who loves you for real and treats you well. You deserve that.

    Liked by 1 person

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