“You belong with me.”
Funny enough, I believed him then. I had no idea love at first sight never actually existed. That it was too good to be true.
His delectable words always sought to convince me that he was more than perfect for me. Always behaved like the perfect gentlemen.
He promised me we belonged together. Always tried to show me that we did. His promises bloomed and blossomed into the beautiful roses I kept in my room. Fun nights out at dinner, all my favourite places.
His promises made me forget one, tiny little thing: they were always too good to be true.
Eventually, I allowed his promises to turn into the smooth, polished band which latched itself onto my finger.
His promises kept me satiated. “I’ll do better next time.” He’d always say with a frown. They kept me on a leash. ‘He didn’t mean to do it,’ I’d always tell myself.
His promises begged me to forgive him.
But one thing his promises couldn’t do was to erase the marks he’d left on my skin.
What happened then? The ring simply grew too tight.
“You belong to me.” His voice sneered, a constant reminder, as he stood over my shoulder.