Unrequited: An External View
folder
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult
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1
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660
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Drama › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
660
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Unrequited: An External View
Unrequited: An External View of an Unhealthy Fixation
It wasn’t his arrogance that bothered her the most, nor his scathing remarks. She could handle the jealousy and anger and regret, had pushed aside all of her feelings until she felt empty. She could even handle the facets of his personality that she detested, made exceptions that she never would have made for any other man. He had no mind for politics, or anything that required deep thought, which she cherished. Where she preferred philosophy and Nietzsche, he was happy with Maxim and Playboy. He purposely tried to bait and antagonize her, constantly belittled her.
No, not even all of these traits could drive her to the point of insanity, though they very well should have. What irritated her most was his total lack of interest. Constantly she tried to better herself for him, fought for his attention and love, did anything and everything he requested, yet nothing she seemed to do was ever enough. It made her wonder what was wrong with her, what she had done to warrant this kind of behavior. After all, everything had started well enough. There had been the familiar tingling sensation that went hand in hand with reciprocated interest and affection. For a solid month they had spent nearly every moment together, shared walks holding hands and private intimate affairs that had meant the world to her, when suddenly he seemed to distance himself for no apparent reason. 'What had gone wrong?' she wondered. What horrible, unforgivable deed had she done to justify such animosity? Had she said something offensive without realizing it? Was it because she cared too much or seemed too eager? She probed her mind endlessly for the answers to these questions to no avail. Deep down she knew that the only person who could answer these questions was the one person she could never ask, him.
She still found herself thinking of him, though she fought not to. She even had sex with him occasionally, convincing herself that she just wanted physical pleasure and desired nothing else from him, that she could use him as he was using her without regret. Even to her the words rang false. She knew that it was a losing battle, but he was like a drug and she lacked the self control to keep herself away. 'Like a moth to a flame,' she thought ruefully.
In the back of her mind she knew that they weren’t meant for each other, that it would never work, and yet for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to let it go. That, she realized, hurt more than any physical pain she had ever endured, and she longed for the day that she would find relief from this certain agony.
It wasn’t his arrogance that bothered her the most, nor his scathing remarks. She could handle the jealousy and anger and regret, had pushed aside all of her feelings until she felt empty. She could even handle the facets of his personality that she detested, made exceptions that she never would have made for any other man. He had no mind for politics, or anything that required deep thought, which she cherished. Where she preferred philosophy and Nietzsche, he was happy with Maxim and Playboy. He purposely tried to bait and antagonize her, constantly belittled her.
No, not even all of these traits could drive her to the point of insanity, though they very well should have. What irritated her most was his total lack of interest. Constantly she tried to better herself for him, fought for his attention and love, did anything and everything he requested, yet nothing she seemed to do was ever enough. It made her wonder what was wrong with her, what she had done to warrant this kind of behavior. After all, everything had started well enough. There had been the familiar tingling sensation that went hand in hand with reciprocated interest and affection. For a solid month they had spent nearly every moment together, shared walks holding hands and private intimate affairs that had meant the world to her, when suddenly he seemed to distance himself for no apparent reason. 'What had gone wrong?' she wondered. What horrible, unforgivable deed had she done to justify such animosity? Had she said something offensive without realizing it? Was it because she cared too much or seemed too eager? She probed her mind endlessly for the answers to these questions to no avail. Deep down she knew that the only person who could answer these questions was the one person she could never ask, him.
She still found herself thinking of him, though she fought not to. She even had sex with him occasionally, convincing herself that she just wanted physical pleasure and desired nothing else from him, that she could use him as he was using her without regret. Even to her the words rang false. She knew that it was a losing battle, but he was like a drug and she lacked the self control to keep herself away. 'Like a moth to a flame,' she thought ruefully.
In the back of her mind she knew that they weren’t meant for each other, that it would never work, and yet for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to let it go. That, she realized, hurt more than any physical pain she had ever endured, and she longed for the day that she would find relief from this certain agony.