Guilt.

May 30, 2011
She was so sorry. Guilt built up in her chest and grew until it was as heavy as a stone. It weighed down her insides and would slowly release in tears – slowly, slowly, slowly. It wasn’t fast enough.

She tore into his memory like a murderer. Her words clawed his reputation like her hands once clawed his back and chest – full of passion, ecstasy. She took every measure possible to justify her reasoning – but justifying something unjustifiable is sin. So she had a rock in her stomach.

She would occasionally build upon that rock; she was set off too easily. But, soon, her eyes would be open again. Soon, she would remember why she loved him. Soon, the emotions began to leak through her eyes, the rock throbbed, the guilt continued. She was so sorry.

She wanted to apologize to him for something that was not even in his knowledge. She was irrational. She had this starvation caused by excess; the rock rose to her throat in a lump of pain. She had dehumanized him so that she could dehumanize herself; she could justify this heartbreak.

Soon, the stone began to roll in her stomach, until it destroyed her. She deserved it. She had destroyed him.