Skip to main content

Cold

https://www.cdc.gov/nceh/toolkits/images/prevent_hypothermia.jpg


My girl and I have been together for about a year. Everyone requests to hear the tale about how we met over and over again – it’s a real meet cute. I first spotted her across the room at a dingy bar, ordering a cheap beer with her undeniably inadequate boyfriend. Being a female myself, he didn’t take any offense when I glided over to her and declared she was utterly stunning.

An hour later, we were fucking in the bathroom.

I moved her out of her boyfriend’s place. I could practically smell his fragile masculinity as I stuffed the dress I first fucked her in into an almost full box and hauled it down to my vehicle. I loaded the last of her things up and relocated her to my home.

For the next few months, we were on fire. Fucking turned to making love, and making love turned to an engagement. I was ecstatic. She was the girl of my dreams, the kind of girl you could only dream of tasting, having for your own. We didn’t just live together, we thrived together. Grew together.

That is, until earlier this week. My girl is prone to depression, I know that. I’ve held her as she cried, expelling her inner demons to the best of her ability. Understanding this, I agreed to accept her as she is. However, she was been acting unexpectedly cold to me recently… and I’m not sure what to do.

I’m not the jealous type, but she has cheated on me before. My friends warned me about this – once a straight girl, always a straight girl, they say. But I’m willing to take her and all of her imperfections. I’ve smelled foreign cologne on her before and haven’t said a thing. Because I love her. I’ve seen the distinctive stains of cum on her clothing and haven’t bothered her about it. She leaves, and I rescue her from the company of a drunken man at the bar. Because I love her.

A few days ago, she implored me to take her to her old boyfriend. She needed something from him, although she couldn’t tell me what. I obeyed her wishes, because I love her. I picked her up from the visit and she cried about committing a mortal sin. I didn’t even mention the fact that her lipstick was smudged. Because I love her, because I love her, because I love her.

Now, though, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder. All day, she just stares out the window. She pleads at me with a glassy stare to release her from the misery that consumes her. I embrace and tenderly kiss her. But she will not speak to me. Still, I love her. And I will continue to love her through this. Her body seizes, and I massage her weary muscles. I want her back, but I’m not sure how to bring her back.

I lead her downstairs and prepare her favorite foods. Still, she will not eat. I lay her down on the bed and give myself to her. She only glares down at me. She says, you, you are not good enough anymore. Still, I slip my fingers inside of her until I hear her gasp the way she does when she finishes. She doesn’t taste like she normally does; she tastes like someone else. Still, I nestle beside her and hold her until morning comes, bright and blistering.

This week has been utter despair, but I soldier on because I love her. She is cold to me, but still I stay. I’ve made contact with her psychiatrist, and he’s told me to take her in for an emergency visit tomorrow morning. Apparently, this has happened before. Psychotic depression, he says. She’s had a break with reality and needs immediate treatment. This gives me a sick sense of hope – if she’s been through this before, she can get through it again. I will carry her weight on my shoulders like Atlas carried the weight of the heavens, because she is heaven to me, and I love her.

Tonight, I’ve tucked her in bed. She whispers, you have taken everything from me. But still, I take her in my arms as she is everything to me. I make love to her, surprised by the blood on my fingers. She must have started her period, but I am not shy regarding the functions of the female body. She lets out that telltale gasp, and I withdraw my fingers from the gaping hole in the socket of her eye. A slow grin spreads across my face. The rigidity in her cold thighs confirms that she will never leave me again.

---
Credits

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Wish Come True (A Short Story)

I woke up with a start when I found myself in a very unfamiliar place. The bed I was lying on was grand—an English-quilting blanket and 2 soft pillows with flowery laces. The whole place was fit for a king! Suddenly the door opened and there stood my dream prince: Katsuya Kimura! I gasped in astonishment for he was actually a cartoon character. I did not know that he really exist. “Wake up, dear,” he said and pulled off the blanket and handed it to a woman who looked like the maid. “You will be late for work.” “Work?” I asked. “Yes! Work! Have you forgotten your own comic workhouse, baby dear?” Comic workhouse?! I…I have became a cartoonist? That was my wildest dreams! Being a cartoonist! I undressed and changed into my beige T-shirt and black trousers at once and hurriedly finished my breakfast. Katsuya drove me to the workhouse. My, my, was it big! I’ve never seen a bigger place than this! Katsuya kissed me and said, “See you at four, OK, baby?” I blushed scarlet. I always wan

Hans and Hilda

Once upon a time there was an old miller who had two children who were twins. The boy-twin was named Hans, and he was very greedy. The girl-twin was named Hilda, and she was very lazy. Hans and Hilda had no mother, because she died whilst giving birth to their third sibling, named Engel, who had been sent away to live wtih the gypsies. Hans and Hilda were never allowed out of the mill, even when the miller went away to the market. One day, Hans was especially greedy and Hilda was especially lazy, and the old miller wept with anger as he locked them in the cellar, to teach them to be good. "Let us try to escape and live with the gypsies," said Hans, and Hilda agreed. While they were looking for a way out, a Big Brown Rat came out from behind the log pile. "I will help you escape and show you the way to the gypsies' campl," said the Big Brown Rat, "if you bring me all your father's grain." So Hans and Hilda waited until their father let them out,

I Was A Lab Assistant of Sorts (Part 3)

Hey everyone. I know it's been a minute, but I figured I would bring you up to speed on everything that happened. So, needless to say, I got out, but the story of how it happened was wild. So there we were, me and the little potato dude, just waiting for the security dude to call us back when the little guy got chatty again. “Do you think he can get us out?” he asked, not seeming sure. “I mean, if anyone can get us out it would be him, right?” “What do you base this on?” I had to think about that for a minute before answering, “Well, he's security. It's their job to protect people, right? If anyone should be able to get us out, it should be them.” It was the little dude's turn to think, something he did by slowly breathing in and out as his body puffed up and then shrank again. “I will have to trust in your experience on this matter. The only thing I know about security is that they give people tickets