Seremos Cordelia...

" No te llamo mío, porque entiendo que tú nunca lo has sido, y, si un día me ilusioné 
con este pensamiento, ahora he sido cruelmente castigada. A pesar de todo te llamo mío: 
mi seductor, mi embaucador, mi enemigo, mi asesino, origen de mi desventura, tumba de
mi dicha, abismo de mi desdicha. Te llamo mío y me digo tuya, y si estas palabras un tiempo halagaban tu orgullo postrado en adoración ante mí, suenan hoy como una maldición contra ti, una maldición por toda la eternidad. ¡No te regocijes con el pensamiento de que yo tenga la intención de perseguirte o de armar mi mano con un puñal, y así merecer tu escarnio! Donde quiera que vayas, seguiré siendo tuya. Vete a los confinesdel mundo, seguiré siendo tuya. Aunque ames a mil mujeres, seguiré siendo tuya. Las mismas palabras que utilizo contra ti te demuestran que soy tuya. Tú te has atrevido a engañar a una criatura hasta el extremo de que eras todo para ella, hasta el extremo de que no habría deseado otra alegría distinta a ser tu esclava. Yo soy tuya, tuya, tuya: tu maldición.
 Tu Cordelia"

Mierda.

Things that hurt.

I'm broken. He broke me. And I don't... know how. Or why. I mean...

I know I fell in love with him like I didn't fell for... any of them.
Because he's just... everything. He's stmarter. And meaner. And sicker.
And honest about... most of it. So that's more. He's more.
He's also the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

He's not right for me. So I'm not right for him.
And that's clear. That's loud and clear and doesn't make me love him any less.

I won't forgive him. It's not forgivable.
He'd never ask for it, no, but that's besides the case.
I won't forgive him and that doesn't make me love him any less either.

But it all keeps me on my feet. I'm on my feet.
And I'm trying. I breath. I do. I smiled today.
I'm standing, but I'm broken.

I smiled today and it was sick.
I recognize the feelings, the urges, but
I'm so much braver now. And I'll allow it, if I can have it.

I wonder when I got translucid. I'm transparent.
It's... all so painfully obvious. See-though.
But I'm... honest. And I'm at peace with myself.

So I'm standing, and I'm broken. And I'm at peace with myself,
because I'm not cheating myself. And I trust me.
Even if he doesn't. Even if she doesn't.

I'm lonely. And I hope I get to tell him that I love him, even though it won't change a thing.
I want the chance to say it. And I don't know if I'll get it, of if I'll take it.
And I hate seing the paralels. I hate that he's doing the same thing, puting me in the same place.
I hate him for not being able to take me. For not wanting to take me.
And he will always be my first Dom.
And I wish he were different. And...

And I wish I hadn't fallen in love with him.

I love you even though you're awful. I love you even though you're selfish, even though you've treated me like shit, even though you will continue to hurt me, knowingly.
I love you even if I'm mad and don't want to talk to you. Even if you seem to have changed personalities.
I love you even though I was dissatisfied. I love you even though you'd never give me what I want.

I love you even though I don't know if we could ever be happy together.
But I love you madly, deeply, whole.

I love you even though I've never told you.
But now it's all I can say.

I love you and wish I could give you the world. But I can't.

I love you and it feels like it's never gonna stop. Will it?

I don't want a second-best life. Mostly 'cause it's not a close second.

What I'm looking for.

It feels so weird to be here now. Profane, like having sex in your childhood room.
Oh well.

His hands slightly shaking. He means to keep it all under control, keep it completely cool, but his pulse betrays him. I can see, in that slight unsteadiness, that despite the distance and the serene face, he is affected by me. He wants me. Enough to make me wait, and oh, I'll wait however long he says.

I'll do any and all the things, to see his hands slightly shaking as they undo a button. To see the smiles.
The wicked smile, when a new, unspeakable idea pops into his mind.
The sadistic smile, rejoicing in the divine pain he knows he's causing, reaffirming the extent of my surrender.
The satisfied smile, as he sees his desires fulfilled.

The smiles he's unaware of, when he sleeps, when he's happy. I saw it the very first night, when I had to force myself to close my eyes, because the vision of him smiling, sleeping next to me was so damn beautiful.

And god damn it, in all my life I have never, ever seen such tenderness anywhere, as there was in the look in his eyes when he managed to get that damn thing in my butt. And hell, I think it's romantic, however weird.

I'll be good for him. I'll be better, I'll be the smartest, the prettiest, the sluttiest and the most devoted. For him.

After all this time, the answer appears without even thinking about it. After all this time, I know what I'm looking for.

pmsing and a tiny bit of bdsm

So your self proclaimed girlfriend has gone insane. On your birthday. Yikes.
You know facebook right? it fucking keeps record of everything man. Every fucking little thing you said to your ugly ex. Like when you called her what you call me now. Isn't that adorable?
Will I be as written off your life in a few months like she is now?
But I'm setting myself a little high here. Because you had quite the conection with this girl, didn't you?
She was obviously a bit on the pervert side, like you, and yes, like myself too. You like that, right?
You sure liked her, didn't you? You gave her a collar. You gave her a fucking collar, didn't you?

I would fucking kill for that. And you've talked about it, you said you wanted to give me one.
Oh man that really sent me through the roof. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. But time keeps passing by, and here I am, collarless.
Maybe I'm not worthy of it. Maybe you think I should try harder. And I kinda agree.
But I'm tired and awfull and about to get my period, see, so I can't really go for it exactly now. I'm sorry.
Fuck I really am. And I'd like to be able to explain that, to be able to ask your forgiveness, but I shouldn't even do that!
You're not my fucking master, hopefully, yet. But how I wish you were.
Every time you let slip that evil little smile, it's just so beautifull, I can't help but wish you'd apply all that nasty thoughts on me.

I don't want to be impatient. I'd wait however long you see fit, if I knew there's the reward of being yours waiting ahead. I just want to know if it's all in my head or if things can really be that way.