Conversations ✔

Darkness.

The water was calming, warm and welcoming her tense muscles. She hadn't bathed in days. However long ago that was.

It had begun again. Her mind was spiralling into funny ideas and darkness.

Time was not linear, it felt circular. Days blended together and nothing mattered.

The tremendous amount of love the man showered her with was rendered useless once more. Because... was it really love? Or was it just him using her and her using him for pleasure?
Because... what man loves a woman and still continues to be with another? And what kind of woman allows it to continue for so long?

What was the best way to describe the relationship? Could it be described? Should it exist? Was she selfish to keep him for so long? What if she was the one another girl was ripping off? Taking time from the man she had been with for over a decade? Making him do what he desired the most while she waited at home in hopes of his love?

Why was she allowing this man to cheat his woman with her? And why was she not trying to find love elsewhere? Why could she not bring herself to care about her? Why could she not stop this madness?

At this point she had begun telling herself things that she knew were not true. But she could not tell herself why she thought they were not true. She was one in the billions of people on earth. Her existence was a snow flake in Iceland. Whether or not she was there, it made no difference.

Day one, she got out of bed. Showered and prepared for work. Then returned from work after three hours because of the pounding headache that did not want to end.
Day two, she got out of bed. Made breakfast and showered but never got any clothes on. Went straight to bed.
Day three had come but she had not seen it. She opened her eyes and it was sunny outside. She was hungry and she was confused, so she closed her eyes again.
Day four was not any kind either. She did have something to eat and did sit in front of the TV she so excitedly bought that day he was helping her find some things for her new apartment.

The TV was on promotion. Down the original price by fifty percent. And she could afford it if she left a few other things for next month's bill.

The TV never went on, but she sat and ate. Starring at the blackness of it. Her thoughts were a psychological thriller, a whole new level of entertainment.

Who would have thought? That life could get so complicated? Was loving someone supposed to be this way? Was it normal to love your job and still despise your workplace? What was she going to do now that she had been skipping work? She knew not where her phone was. It probably had a million missed calls and a few panicked messages. She hoped it was off, the sound would be angering if it was not.

She remained seated even as the door swung open, not caring if intruders came to steal. Hoping they steal her life too.

The figure went past her and straight to her bathroom. And when it returned, something was taken from her hands. Something cold. Her bowl of food, perhaps. Was it empty? How long had it been empty? She left lighter, like the bowl was heavy in her hands.

"Come..." a strong and warm hand pulled her up and she obliged.

The scent returned some of her lost pieces. She found herself closing her eyes and following blindly.

Trust. Why?

Why did she trust this man so much? Or was it just the lack of care for her life at that point? He could have done anything and it wouldn't have mattered to her. What was the point? Everything was meaningless. Her life included. Her existence.

She hoped her parents had not tried to get a hold of her, because they would definitely drive up the city just to be sure she was alright if their calls were not returned. They texted every day, but were used to her lack of interest in replying. She would or they would call her every three to four days. Sometimes a whole week would pass and sometimes they would call every day. There was no telling when and how regularly they called.