The feelings of a pyromaniac

I had always thought that my love for him stemmed out from my curiosity when I was a kid. But after my first heartbreak, he came to me. He invited me to come closer and please him. He induced me to do something I didn't want to do anymore.

I refused, not wanting to go back to something I had left behind.

But he knew who I was. When I was happy, he just watched intently, trying to understand me and how I grew from almost three years ago. But when I was sad, he whispered such sweet words to my ears. He grabbed me slowly, yet surely, penetrating inside my shattered will. I screamed but he just kissed me on the lips, taking my breath away.

That's when I realized that I liked what he did. It was a bittersweet gesture. I hated it, but I was amazed by it. It was so similar to the raging ocean inside me that I found myself drowning in this new sensations.

And that is how I ended up burning things in the kitchen.

I was so happy I didn't know what to do. But there he was, also satisfied. It was like an initiation of some sorts, a proof of my acceptance and love for him. I knew it was wrong and destructive, but I found myself not caring anymore. I wanted to feel. I wanted to be able to express myself as me. I wanted to be me, for once.

But is this really the real me?

When I attempt to change my mind, he grabs me and hugs me tight for he does not want me to leave his side again. When I attempt to ask help, he threatens me with words I never wanted to hear, for he knows my deepest fears and twists it with his will.

I sunk deeper into myself, not knowing what to do anymore.

I asked help. I tried telling people about it but he always stabbed me when he found out. He always rubs in my unhealed wounds all the pain I had endured in the past. Like he knew that those people I tell these things about doesn't really care that much. It was like he predicted that I have no one but him, and I hated him for it.

And so, I am stuck in this loop, finding satisfaction in embers and to his twisted love.