This was the man who killed my brother.
Yet here I was. Lying naked next to him in bed.
Ok, don't judge. I'm a little bit fucked up. But honestly it's not as crazy when you know all I've been through.
He's the perfect gentleman. He tells me he loves me every morning. He makes me feel like a princess.
And for a girl who's been cheated on countless times, this guy has been honest.
He makes me feel special. Loved. And isn't that all a girl can ask for?
At the end of the day, what really is love? Is it the fucking? The sweet talk? The history?
I thought I felt love before. Waking up to a man who you'd fucked for years. Quibbling over little things. Ignoring all the things that drive you crazy.
Or maybe I loved my brother. The man who tried to sell me as a sex toy. A man who tried to rape me just 3 years ago.
But this man. The man who killed my brother. And killed my ex. I know he is my true love.
He represents everything I feel and know. He sits in my pocket and follows my every command.
Forever stained with the blood of my loves.