She so fine I overlook red flags like they harmless.. like beauty could soften blows or make chaos feel romantic. Her face alone got me ignoring storms I should’ve never stepped into.
She questions every woman I associate with, every text, every call, every shadow that walks past me.. like paranoia is love, like accusations are intimacy.
She blame me for cheating when I’ve been faithful with my whole chest, never stepped left, never played her.. yet I’m still on trial for crimes I never committed.
It’s like she hunting for negativity in everything I do, digging for dirt even when the ground is clean. No trust. And how we supposed to last without that? She questioning me, and I’m questioning longevity. Is this forever or just a lesson disguised as love?
I just want peace, a steady kind of loving, something warm I can grow in.. and I’m hoping she finds all that in me before I’m too drained to offer it.
I don’t know if it’s her past or immaturity or unhealed pain I keep paying the price for.. but I’m debating if I should leave. It hurts even thinking it, ’cause when I see her I look past the beauty, I see my baby.. the version of her that softens for me, the one I fight to keep.
But here’s the part that spins my mind in circles.. when we argue, she gets turned on. And truth is… the aggression turn me on too. Her voice sharp, my tone raised, and somehow that friction becomes desire.
We go from shouting to touching, from heated to burning, and that’s when she orgasms hardest.. like she only reaches that level when the tension breaks open. We have great sex, she falls asleep on my chest, we make up… then the cycle restarts, same fire, same passion, same wounds reopening.
Love shouldn’t feel like a loop of pleasure and pain holding hands. But here I am.. trying to figure out if this is devotion or destruction disguised as connection, hoping one day we find a version of us that doesn’t bleed to feel alive.
