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Cold

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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.

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Credits

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