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She
sleeps with her light on now because she’s scared;
scared that one day she will love him again; Scared that if
she lets him back into her life, he will hurt her again. It
was never supposed to escalate, her feelings weren’t
supposed to elevate to the level they went up. It all began
with a kiss. And that’s all it was supposed to be, it
was just a kiss. But his arms were so warm, so comforting to
her at the time. And so she kissed him again, and again and
again, all the way up to his house, and there he wrapped her
in his comforting and warm arms, his bed seemed so welcoming,
and she was so young, so foolish to fall in love with him.
And so they made love to each other, caressed each other,
held each other close to their bodies and filled each other
with a definite pleasure, an ecstasy that no ordinary human
touch can deliver. Drifting off to sleep, she looks up at him
and whispers in his ear the three biggest words in the
English language, “I love you.” And He looks down
at her and kisses her, as they float off to sleep, wrapped in
each other’s arms, wrapped in each other’s love.
Or so she thought. She sleeps with her light on now because
she was hurt. Waking up in the morning to see him pull up his
hood and walk out the door killed her more effectively than
any bullet, knife, or accident ever could. Watching as he got
in his car and peeled off down the street made her shed tears
that could overflow the oceans. So she sleeps with the light
on now because she’s determined; determined not to love
him again; determined to not let him hurt her again, and
determined to never assume that there can be just one
kiss.
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