Trapped in Affection’s Snare

Six months have passed, and the person closest to me still accompanies me at night. I often talk to him about the times when he played the character I always wanted. Often, I just shut my eyes tightly and move toward dreams that have yet to be paid for. Every foggy morning, I never forget to say goodbye to him, but all I get is a new collection of bruises all over my body. He always avoided my face by telling me how beautiful I was while doing activities with his best friend in a bottle with a cheap label. Every afternoon, I always stare in front of the door of this apartment, which is starting to get old. I have to be ready because I know that I am falling into this trap called affection.

Six days have passed. Determination is not a problem-solving solution. I think this is just a temporary escape that won’t end. I was wrong because I was the one who started it, but is that true? Wasn’t he the one who vomited all the anger from his failure at me? Shouldn’t I be the one holding him responsible? It’s also true that I just need to finish it one last time. It was certainly not determination but the stimulation of joy that I craved. The evening has arrived, and I am no longer frozen in front of the door of this worn-out flat. Everything is starting to melt into my small smile as I step inside.

Six hours have passed. He just looked at me blankly. I was still panting for breath and sat in the corner of the room. I feel like this room is starting to get bigger again. It looks like tomorrow morning I have to start cleaning again because there’s a lot of rubbish, especially since tomorrow is the schedule for throwing out the rubbish. But what about him? Maybe just put it in used boxes with awards. That’s right, at least tomorrow is a new day where these bruises are time to finish and rest. For now, I just mop up the remaining color from it, and the red of the spilled wine has been mixed first. I then take a shower, ready to pay off this dream. Oh yeah, I forgot to say goodbye for the last time. “Thank you, dear; now you will no longer feel like a failure.”

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