Everything was like glass, you could see straight through. Yet also this glass was a mirror; whenever one would think they are seeing straight through, they would come to the realization that it was their own reflection they were staring at. His personality was an ocean, from whenst the calm comes from the storm also emerges. Calm in the deep yet turbulent at the surface. Beautiful to behold but rages a storm for the ages. In him, you would see a darkness with a hint of sunlight – the idea of a sun invasion of the night that interferes not with the dark.
That’s who she met. Her only mistake was listening to his words. He was not seductive, he was not flirty yet when he spoke, his words watered the thirsty and dry areas of her intelligence and curiosity. She was satisfied by his mind leading to the demolition of the walls of protection she had built around herself. He showed genuine care but spoke truths, heavy truths that left her exposed. She slowly became a slave to his rhythm. To her, he was the sun that invaded her night but would not interfere with her darkness. To her, he was like a god who deceives.
In her imagination, he had an evil brain and an angel heart; the combination badly so needed. She started to be bare before him. She hid nothing from him. He had access to everything from the time she woke up, what she would dress in and what time she slept. He became the keeper of every personal thing she ever knew. He continued to speak truths to her, she kept being watered. To her, his truths invited her to break boundaries. To him, everyone is responsible for their life and actions. Indeed, everything was like glass, you could see straight through. Yet also, this glass was like a mirror, whenever one would think they are seeing straight through, they would only realize it’s their own reflection they were staring at.
One day, as she was around him going about his business, she reaches out to him and declares that she is indeed sexually attracted to him. In her heart, she believed he had planted this seed. In his mind, knowing full on well that if he pursued this path, every true thing he had ever spoken would be compromised. He still did not turn down the offer. For a fact, he was like a god who deceives. For her joy, he gave her moaning. For her hunger for truth, he gave his lust. Convinced in her heart that all this was his idea , she painted him to be the villain after. To her, he became wicked, representing a sickness. He had become fraudulent, even offensive to the universe. To him, he was a casualty of his desires and hated his own heart to the core.
Unable to bear the guilt, the shame -he condemned himself to the deepest part of the abyss. He was alone, nobody but him without any food and water. He embraced the hate, he threw away all he knew to be true. He created a sanctuary for blackbirds to feast on his heart. He knew he was not a victim of her emotions and talk, but of his desires. He felt like he was standing on the wall and they were throwing darts. He was down in an open coffin. To the darkness he surrendered his soul. To the dust he was made out of, he returned. He elected to hire hitmen to bury him alive. In his death, he named her joy. Rest in peace.
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