They say the abused become the abuser. And you have gone through hell.
But what is standing in front of me is this beautiful, fragile woman that holds broken things so gently as she has never been held, who melts her energy into making them intact. Until there is no power, no more love left to give.
I keep waiting.
I keep waiting for a dog so hideous to pass by on our evening walks that you will not pet. I keep waiting for a sunset too plain that you feel it too futile to paint. I look around for a child far too overbearing for you to comfort— But whenever I inquire you, all I hear is that you've been all of those things, and you won't let it happen to anyone else. Too hideous—too plain—Too overbearing—
You love fixing broken things. You attract evil because it latches on to sweetness, sucks it until evil becomes a lovable thing and the source becomes sour and stale.
I believe, sometimes, that is why I am your lover.
But I am no different from when you first met me. You may not have noticed this, but even though you hold me, pour yourself into me, you never attempt to glue me together. You never attempt to fix me. You just bleed into my vacant parts, unafraid of the surrounding filth.
Who did I murder that was so bad, what days did I feed my hungry cat so well that I am held dear to a person like you?
My sweet, sweet Caroline. How could I ever repay your love?
-exerpt from my upcoming villian×hero book🤭💋