I always take a deep breath, close my eyes and let that feeling take over me.

Every day, only for a few seconds, I allow my body to remember your touch, allow my mind to remember your voice, yet I’ll never let my heart remember your love.

The bruises are long gone from my skin, the wounds healed by time, however my heart is hardly beating, barely holding on. It took me a long time to realize the anguish I found myself in, an eternity to uncover the many masks you wore with me.

There was a finesse in your abuse, an artfulness to your ways. You would soften your blows with tender words, softly touching what you already hurt.

For days, weeks and months, I stayed. I stood by you, blindfolded, numb to the constant pain, used to the steady flow of fear cursing through my veins.

I loathe that I let you in, let you break me down repeatedly but most of all, I hate that I love you.