Sadist (n) someone who enjoys inflicting pain on others. The most ironic thing about this life is the way we react to beauty. Take flowers for example. We think flowers are beautiful, so beautiful that we wish to pass them on to loved ones or people we care for so we can share their beauty with them. We as humans get selfish. So selfish. We want to admire the beauty so much that we pluck them out of the ground and set them in vase on our desk so we can admire the beauty more often. But that kills them. Why would we as humans do something so awful to something so beautiful? And then I began to wonder, why would you do that to me? Destroy me and all my being, leave me so fucked up that I have to run to my mom like a cub needing protection from its lioness mother because some other, greater being is frightening them. And that greater being? The being that haunts me internally? The being that gives me flashbacks of trauma that I so badly want to forget. The being that causes me to have to leave friends’ houses in the middle of the night because the flashback was too real or the being that doesn’t allow me to get close to anyone because I fear putting their life in danger, much the way mine seems to be. How is it fair that I feel hunted and haunted with every breathe I take? I’ve got my demons and they all look exactly like you and I can’t even sip alcohol because I know I’ll try to drown them and if I do ill end up killing myself and I almost died twice already in your hands I can’t allow you to take my life or try again for a third. You haunt me in everything I see and god some days I wish you had killed me because take it from me the only thing worse than dying is almost dying by someone you thought would never lay a hand on you. But after all, we pluck flowers out of the ground just to watch them die.

But why sadist? Is it that you did this out of pure hatred for me? Was I able to cause you so much anger you felt the need to take my life? Twice? And now what for me? I fear getting close to people, I fear you’re still after me, I fear putting them in harm’s way. But also, I fear getting close again to someone just for them to hurt me the same way you did. And now I am not someone people fall in love with. I leave memories and moments in people’s minds but I always leave. I leave swiftly and quickly without even recognition that I’m gone, and then people begin to understand why we name storms after people.

But do I hate you? I hate that you left even though a year ago you swore you never would. I hate that it rains even on days when they said it wouldn’t. I hate that sometimes boys kiss girls that they really are not supposed to kiss. I hate that my skin still feels the shocks and tingles I would feel when you kissed me. I hate that I am haunted. I was never scared of ghosts until you left and now I just see you in everything and if you are going to kill me please just do it cause the thought of you haunting and hunting makes it hard to breathe.