𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖶𝖤𝖫𝖵𝖤

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
ISAAC 
I need to stop but somehow I'm not able to. I was so close before it ripped away and the voices got too loud. 
I was able to see her question why she was the way she was. She always cracks but covers it up again. It frustrates me. The band aid that I'd her personality needs to be ripped off. I don't know why I have this urge to fix her or understand her but I do. 
Maybe because I can't fix myself. I'm too far gone with trauma I don't even remember, so I'm taking all that frustration on her but she hasn't managed to fail me everytime. 
Today in the cabin, she said things that I knew she's always bit back. She was snarky, playful, crude and just herself. She had cracked. Until my hands wove through her hair and held her close to me. So close that I could feel almost every atom on her face. It was difficult.
Having to hold her like that and not just once do something about the deep burn in my chest. The fire that aches to hurt her and ruin her. I gazed at her lips and wondered what they tasted like. Did her lips feel the same as her words? Were they harsh and unforgiving? 
When that band aid wouldn't rip off, I didn't like who I saw infront of me, the person I'm seeing right now having fun with everyone. She played into the voices, she gave in and changed herself and I didn't like it because the person she changed into is a bitch. Pity seeking, self indulgent bitch. 
Whatever happened back there in the cabin, is who she is.
When she's mischievous, confident, and sexy. That's who she truly is, not the person who cry and feels sorry for themselves and makes others feel bad for them. She wasn't born into the manipulation, she was taught it. She isn't a good girl, that isn't who she is. She's a bad person and she knows it but there's just something stopping her from being bad. Something or someone is making her good and I don't like it. 
When I had her up close and personal, her lips just a few inches away, I wanted her to cry out all the good in her. All the tricks were going to bleed from her eyes. Her heart was sliced with the intensity of my words and she welcomed all of it. She was too flawed to admit she wanted it. All of it. 
She hates that she wants it from me and I hate that I want to give it to her and fix her. I want to understand her and I'm fucking myself over trying to do that.
I snap out of it when someone jumps in the lake with a scream. My ears buzzing with all the chatter going on around me. Haileys legs draped over me as she speaks to her friends and I pretend to be present in my own conversation. 
"Babe, what's wrong?" Hailey catches my arm and rubs it soothingly. Her slow but affectionate actions cause riples of goosebumps to arise in me and I flinch my arm away.