Short Story #1 (Part 2 - Running Draft)

(fix perspective)

"I’m scared of what you’ll say

So I’m hiding what I’m feeling

But I’m tired of

Holding this inside my head..."

"Ur not gonna like what I am abt to tell u."

"...what less than 6 months later ur tryin to find a replacement..."

Your harsh words continued to rip through my text one chime after another. With each chime I found myself trying to reach out and gather what little happiness and dignity I had left. His text onslaught ripped through me like no other.

"U can't even be alone! What the fuck?!...GTFO!"

There was nothing I can say that would calm the fire being fueled by your hate. As quickly as each text came through I tried to respond, "...what's wrong if I found someone that make me happy. I can't deny myself that pleasure of finding a man that I attracted to and respect and care about...."

He continued and continued as my happiness began to collapse and spill through my fingers. I was losing quick and didn't know what caused this or where is verbal abuse was coming from.

I was used to being the receiving end of a verbal tack board, but still I didn't not see this one coming. I couldn't keep up with your fury and instead became numbed by your words and slowly physically ill.

He was great at describing a moment and telling me what he thought an all-around great story teller of despair and not hope, but when it came to sharing how those moments made him feel was a different story.