Lovers of Destruction

“One cannot say what he was to her. He was not her friend, she wouldn’t want to call him her lover. He was everything that she did not need but she needed him. “You ground me.”, she once told him but couldn’t answer his follow up question which was a rather simple, “Why?”. She liked the control she had over herself. She wouldn’t have told him even if she knew. She was a dramatic, in voice, in words, in thought, in actions. And he, he stripped the aesthete down in her and made her love what was real. He made her feel raw. He made her feel like an open wound. Not weak nor vulnerable but careful. He made her feel careful. She always kept her feelings in check. She always thought with her head. She tried to. How far that worked was probably the only thing she had no control over. However… Ah! I forget!… She always told herself that she wouldn’t try to decipher things that weren’t…
She felt strongly about him. That was all that mattered. She was after all, a dramatic.”

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