catriona
@marchand
c2 seviye reading slump
there was no huge argument that predicted my decision to betray you, no ultimate act of tyranny. i simply broke under the weight of a thousand tense nights, a thousand thoughtless, soul-stripping words. i felt like i was losing my mind in that place, and eventually my desire to do something about it, anything about it, outweighted my fear of you.
Bazı hikâyeler tam tahmin ettiğin gibi ilerler. Bazılarıysa son sayfada tüm bildiklerini sorgulatır. 🤯
Ters köşeleri seviyorsan, seni sonuna kadar merakta bırakacak 3 kitap önerisini keşfetmeye hazır ol!
but then, i was still optimistic. i still wanted to believe i was living in a fairy tale, that i laid down every night with a prince instead of a wolf.
i wanted to believe you.
you turned a strong-minded girl into a pulsing wound of need.
i never knew the meaning of the word enthralled before you.
my lord. my liege. beloved. king. my darling. my defender.
i had so many names for you in those days, my cup of devotion overflowing with titles worthy of your station. i used your name, too, the one your mother had given you, but only in our most intimate moments. when i comforted you during your rare displays of weakness or made a vow to you as a woman, as a wife.
but i am not your wife anymore, my lord, and i don't think you ever truly saw me as a whole woman. i was always a student. i project. an accessory in tge legal and decorative sense.
you did not let me keep my name, so i will strip you of yours. in this world, you are what i say you are, and i say you are a ghost, a ling night's fever dream that i have finally woken up from. i say you are the smoke- wisp memory of a flame, thawing ice suffering under an early spring sun, a chalk ledger of debts being wiped clean.
i say you do not have a name.
this is my last love letter to you, though some would call it a confession. i suppose both are a sort of gentle violence, putting down in ink what scorches the air when spoken aloud.
if you can still hear me wherever you are, my love, hear this:
it was never my intention to murder you.
not in the beginning, anyway.