It started with him

Once there was a girl (there always is). She was driven by her fear of loneliness. When she laid down to sleep every night the sun left her; when she woke up the moon was gone. Sometimes she would fight her fear by pushing everyone out of her life. They couldn’t leave her if she left first. So she spent her entire life apologizing for her fucked up brain no one could fix. The drugs and therapy worked for a bit. She was happy. Things were bright and new, but never real. Soon there were so many bottles on her nightstand she forgot all her pain. She never needed drugs or cheap booze, and people thought that made her good. She was never good. She was haunted by the idea that she was rotting from the inside. She was sure if she took that knife she kept “just in case” and thrusted it into herself nothing but the smell of decay would fill the room. When the drugs stopped working (they always do), she found a new way to numb her pain. She found solace. Oh she never had to be lonely again. She learned ways to keep he rooms filled with wonderful, interesting people. She learned exactly who and what to be. For once; she was kind. She knew the right thing to do in every situation. For once, she was adored. Well, who she was pretending to be was.

Then there was him, and he saw her for who she really was. A broken, rotting, ugly corpse. He hated her instantly (he lies now and says he didn’t). Time passed like the second hand of a clock, and somehow they were friends (of sorts). He hated her fake exterior, and she hated his brain. He was smart, and he knew it. He was better than her, and reminded her of that frequently. She was just a stupid girl. So easily lost in the crowd. A girl who couldn’t breathe if her skin was dry, who never understood the joke, and never could walk a straight line without falling. He gave her herself back. An angry, frightened, and alone thing. He taught her to love that part of her. The blackened bit of her soul. He loved it too. His love was not normal. He loved her through possession. He told her what to wear and what she could and couldn’t do (daddy issues, am I right?). He hated himself for it. He was a dark soul just like her, and she tried to teach him to love that part of him, as he had taught her, but he never did.

It’s easier now (I am told), they destroy (and complete) each other in every way. They don’t want to get better. They are a powerful poison. He is the only person who can survive her. She is the only person who can survive him.