Little Pieces | Anna Hanson
In loving a monster, you lose yourself. You lose the way you laugh with the sweet taste of freedom on your tongue not too far behind. It is replaced with hushed fear of impending wrath and judgment from him. You lose the lovely sparkle in your eyes, which lights up your face. It is reduced to a dull, haunted look, frantically searching the crowds for him. You lose your optimistic attitude toward your life and those around you. You are now shaking with mind-crippling anxiety, your hands quiver with unshakable terror. Your confident stride is now a hunched shuffle. You lose your loving friends and supportive family. You are now in his premeditated isolation. You lose your bright smile, thanks to him. You regularly experience your stomach tightly knotting up. You are filled with unexplainable dread anytime he places a hand on you. His beautiful words are now empty promises. His generous compliments cease to exist and are now malicious threats. His icily calculating eyes lock on you and you feel an undeniable shiver. Like his fingers are forcefully entwined around your rapidly beating heart. Squeezing tighter and tighter. His voice no longer brings butterflies to your stomach. Only blood-chilling fright. You lose these little fragments of yourself every second, every minute, every day you spend with him.
