*Word prompt this week: Truth
We lived in a fantasy world for three weeks.
A bubble that we created of our own.
We existed happily within it.
All us, all the time.
We were content to just be together.
And we dreamed that we could make it real.
That we could step out of the bubble and survive any harsh reality.
As long as we had each other.
But then a shadow passed over on the fourth week and introduced a weapon.
And I was scared.
But you placed the knife aside and told me not to worry.
Because you had chosen.
And it was me you chose.
You said loving me was the only thing you were sure of.
I took this as absolute truth.
So I let down my guard.
And committed completely.
Ignoring the warning signs.
Because I trusted you and your word.
Blindly.
Even though deep down I knew better.
You took my hand and led me to the edge of our bubble, right to the doorstep leading to the outside.
I saw you hesitate.
I tried to understand.
You drew me into a warm embrace but I knew it was the end.
That’s when I felt the blade.
Cutting into my heart.
I gasped, it hurt so much.
More so that you had done it.
I collapsed on the floor.
I coughed up blood and struggled to breathe.
You kneeled over me, tears in your eyes.
Telling me you were sorry.
But I was dying and sorry can’t help that.
Sorry doesn’t reverse the pain.
Or the damage.
The sense of betrayal.
You tried to touch me to comfort me but you had my blood on your hands and I had to turn away from you.
Because you chose this.
You were slowly killing me and I couldn’t stop it.
So I told you to go.
Even though I desperately wanted you to stay.
Because I’m in love with my murderer.
And I know I shouldn’t be.
I die twice inside, knowing you will move on, easily without me.
Your daily life will progress as normal.
And you will learn to forget me.
But I cannot forget you.
I lay alone as a heap of bloody carnage.
Scene of an unintentional homicide.
This is great, Sam. Unfortunately, most of us can relate.
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Wait, even the elusive playboy Fred himself relates? I guess there’s that person for everyone.
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Well I used to get dumped all the time, before I turned into a bit of a prick. As long as you lobotimize yourself, you’ll do just fine.
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Oh baby can I ever relate!
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Welcome to my fucked up hearts club
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“scene of an unintentional homicide”– great ending.
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Great for the story. Not so great for me.
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no, i’m sorry. that was careless of me?
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No. I’m a tough girl. I appreciate the compliment. I am quite proud of the ending.
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