Satisfaction

I would die for him; he knew that without me having to tell him. I would kill for him; I've done so dozens of times. He knew there was nothing I wouldn't do, just because he asked; he had put it to the test more than once. 

It was wrong. Oh Lord how I knew it was wrong when we first started. But, oh Lord, I couldn't stop. Something came over me when I was around him. A feeling I never had when I was younger. Even with my parents, even when I was what society called 'well adjusted', no one ever made me feel the way I do when I'm around him. 

No one ever made me feel like I do knowing he cared for me too in his own twisted way.  Because he would do anything for me too. I put that to the test more than once, repaying him the favor. 

Life, love, careless abandon for anyone around us. I was whole without him, could function and carry on as if he wasn't a part of me. It hurt when we were a part, but I would survive and not be lost because I knew we would be together again soon.

I can continue on without him, because I know that for every bit of darkness he helped create in me - for every twisted thing I now had no discomfort in doing to whomever I came across whenever the mood struck me - he can't say the same. For all his denial of it, for all his posturing of how unaffected by me he was, I knew I had caused far more damage to him than he ever did to me. And oh how I relish in that knowledge; that someone who claims to be so fiercely independent cannot stand when we are forced apart. 

God, seeing that dependence in his eyes - that need for validation I only see in him when he looks into my eyes - it's the best drug I ever had.