Status: Finished
It's Over
It's Over When I Say It's Over
I’ve waited too long to do something that should have been done the first time he hurt me. Now it’s my turn to hurt him. I’m going to make him pay for what he’s done to me a thousand times before. This was his last chance of many to make it right, but it’s over. We’re over. He’s over. IT’S over. This game he plays, the way he acts as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing to me IS OVER!
This was the final straw on the camels back. I’m fed up of this image he creates around me; the image that he’s an angel, that he does nothing wrong to hurt anyone. But I know that image is false now because he’s hurt me, he’s broken me, he’s torn me apart and he’s going to pay.
It’s got too much to take and as Jim Morrison once said, I’m going to put an end to it one glorious evening. Although I’m 100% sure he was putting an end to something quite different to what I’m thinking of.
He uses my sex like a sleeping pill, has his way with me and then goes to sleep. I’m sick and tired of the delays, the waiting and the hanging around when he’s late because he had “something else” to do. More like someone else to do. I know there’s someone else. I know I’m not the only one anymore. I know that he doesn’t love me and that he doesn’t want me. I know, I know because I have eyes, I have ears, I have a nose and I have a BRAIN. I can see why he’s late, I can hear why he’s late, I can smell why he’s late and I can connect those three measly amounts of information to come to conclusions.
For example; I see him thinking, I hear nothing, I smell alcohol. Okay… he’s had a bad day, right? So he’s gone for a drink with he lads after work to chill? Well, next three clues. I see lipstick on the collar on his shirt, I hear his mobile ring in his pocket and I smell perfume. Add that to the other three and he hasn’t had a bad day but it’s now a whole new story. He’s thinking of her so he doesn’t talk to me, he smells of alcohol because he’s been at hers, leading to the lipstick on the collar and the perfume surrounding him. She’s texting him, asking when they can next see each other and leaving me hanging again.
Well that is the LAST time he will EVER do that again to me. He’ll never get the chance to hear my voice, to smell my hair when I get out the shower, to see my face, to taste my lips, to feel my body; no more chances, no more possibilities, that he can ever do those things again.
When this bullet in embedded in that fateful head, he’ll regret everything and anything he’s ever done. He’ll feel the guilt, he’ll feel the pain and perhaps he’ll die the way I’m dead.
I load my gun, ignoring the sounds of him as he unlocks the door and walks in with her. I turn to face them and I raise the gun, not questioning anything that runs through my mind. I see his beautiful eyes grow wide with terror as my own close and a smile creeps across my face. I pull the trigger, hearing the loud bang as the bullet leaves the gun and buries its sweet body in my temple. Screams and shouts pass my eyes but I know help is too far away. A few seconds later and I lay dead in a pool of red, regretting nothing… I would say my life has left me but that left me the day they made the wrong choices.
This was the final straw on the camels back. I’m fed up of this image he creates around me; the image that he’s an angel, that he does nothing wrong to hurt anyone. But I know that image is false now because he’s hurt me, he’s broken me, he’s torn me apart and he’s going to pay.
It’s got too much to take and as Jim Morrison once said, I’m going to put an end to it one glorious evening. Although I’m 100% sure he was putting an end to something quite different to what I’m thinking of.
He uses my sex like a sleeping pill, has his way with me and then goes to sleep. I’m sick and tired of the delays, the waiting and the hanging around when he’s late because he had “something else” to do. More like someone else to do. I know there’s someone else. I know I’m not the only one anymore. I know that he doesn’t love me and that he doesn’t want me. I know, I know because I have eyes, I have ears, I have a nose and I have a BRAIN. I can see why he’s late, I can hear why he’s late, I can smell why he’s late and I can connect those three measly amounts of information to come to conclusions.
For example; I see him thinking, I hear nothing, I smell alcohol. Okay… he’s had a bad day, right? So he’s gone for a drink with he lads after work to chill? Well, next three clues. I see lipstick on the collar on his shirt, I hear his mobile ring in his pocket and I smell perfume. Add that to the other three and he hasn’t had a bad day but it’s now a whole new story. He’s thinking of her so he doesn’t talk to me, he smells of alcohol because he’s been at hers, leading to the lipstick on the collar and the perfume surrounding him. She’s texting him, asking when they can next see each other and leaving me hanging again.
Well that is the LAST time he will EVER do that again to me. He’ll never get the chance to hear my voice, to smell my hair when I get out the shower, to see my face, to taste my lips, to feel my body; no more chances, no more possibilities, that he can ever do those things again.
When this bullet in embedded in that fateful head, he’ll regret everything and anything he’s ever done. He’ll feel the guilt, he’ll feel the pain and perhaps he’ll die the way I’m dead.
I load my gun, ignoring the sounds of him as he unlocks the door and walks in with her. I turn to face them and I raise the gun, not questioning anything that runs through my mind. I see his beautiful eyes grow wide with terror as my own close and a smile creeps across my face. I pull the trigger, hearing the loud bang as the bullet leaves the gun and buries its sweet body in my temple. Screams and shouts pass my eyes but I know help is too far away. A few seconds later and I lay dead in a pool of red, regretting nothing… I would say my life has left me but that left me the day they made the wrong choices.
♠ ♠ ♠
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