Tainted love, I called her. For the simple fact that she was always giving me mixed signals. Wanting me to touch her, wanting me to leave her alone, always trying to figure out what she really wanted. And even though she was never sure as to what she wanted, she promised she would always love me. Right, I would tell her, I would just say right. There wasn’t anything more I could say. I couldn’t tell her I loved her back, couldn’t tell her I longed for her. For that would only give her ammunition as to what buttons she could push when she thought she was ready.

That’s all she was, tainted. The way she would kiss me, punch me, kick me, then want to console me. Bothers me to think I was willing to put myself through such torture, through such never ending pain just because I promised I wouldn’t ever leave. As of recently, I’ve realized, I don’t need someone to make my life a living hell.

Begging me to touch you again, wishing I would kiss those lips. I wouldn’t. I didn’t even come close this time. Though when we had sex the very last time, it was about as empty as you are. It meant nothing, it meant you were just another girl who could be used as an object of desire.

I used to run to you, now I’m trying my best to stay away, and it’s working. I’m no longer in the middle of these feelings. I’m free. Though, I wouldn’t ever tell you to touch me again; wouldn’t ever tell you to love me. I don’t need you. And that’s what this was, a tainted love. A love that only brings out the feelings of pain and destruction.

Thank you, goodbye, tainted love.