"What does the word love mean?"
The question echoed in the empty halls of the house, Making Cora feel small. (Invisible)
she already knew the answer.
Love was something foolish. It starts by making you feel good, It leads you on for a while, then suddenly, it takes your heart (Trust), and rips it to pieces.
It's A game that plays you like a fool, it becomes everything you want and when you think you can reach it slips from between your fingertips like a waterfall, Taunting you.
Like a rose plucked from the vine, Why doom something so beautiful to wither in a vase, when you can admire it in all it's natural beauty? (Because you can.)
Cora laughed bitterly, staring out the window.
She understood the game of Love. She might've even been able to master it, If she had tried hard enough, or cared for that matter.
Because playing with Fire gets you burned.
No, she knew very well that she really met nothing to anyone, why would she? Even thinking so would be rather hopeless.
She knew that gripping the rose until the thorns pierce your palms until you bleed while the man you thought loved you yelled at you and spit at you and slapped you a couple times until you cried and then tells you to go wait in the room, whether you feel like it or not, means you lost. Big time.
Yes, she was not stupid or delusional.
She lost. It was as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less.
Oh, she had plenty of a story(Confession) to tell, She could cry in the middle of the night about how he used her. How he hit her, beat her, even. But she was simply not the type to dwell on that.
Then what was this?(Dwelling.)
It's not dwelling that's for sure.
But she liked to keep it simple and she would merely state "I lost." instead of, "My ex beat me and raped (attempted to murder) me multiple times."
Because, she simply did not like to dwell on things, or people or things to dwell on her.
So, if anyone ever asked her, She would tell them that love is simply a game, "not a feeling, a game." and she would tell them that she lost. That would be that, the conversation would end, and she'd be left in peace to think about random things. (People.)
She was in pain, She never denied, She just simply brushed it off like it didn't matter or simply said "Yes, It hurts." But she'd never tell them how much, or why. She'd never complain about the pain because that brings questions and she didn't want to answer any questions.
She'd brush off her long sleeved shirts as a style preference, Not as a way to cover the fading bruises. All the while the word swam around her head.
Well, She had enough of love, She had decided this when she first realize she Lost, no point in playing a stupid game when you know you can't win, When you know you're setting yourself to be hurt again.(But it's like a drug.)
Still, even as she convinced herself she was giving up, a weight on her chest pressed down, Causing a constant and unchanging pain lingering there. (You need it.)
This pain was even worse then the bruises that painted her skin. She hated it. Sometimes, the pain was even so bad she pondered just staying in bed and not doing anything at all, not even eating. Somehow, though, on those days she'd manage to drag herself out of bed, to the bathroom, then to the kitchen where she'd eat then go curl up on the couch and silently let the tears slip slowly from her eyes.
She despised it.
There was a knock at her door and she was startled from her thoughts, getting up and walking to it slowly.
One thought swirled in her head, (It might be him. He found me.)
She opened it, but he wasn't there. At least, Not the "he" she was expecting.
"Hello, Jason." She hadn't been expecting him, But, What else should she have expected from him? She had known him since fourth grade.
"What's the matter Cora?" He asked softly.
She realized she was crying, and she cursed herself. "Come in." She said, motioning to the couch for him to sit. "I'll go make some co-"
"You are going to sit down, and tell me why you are crying." He said, and Cora stared at him.
you lost big time. (if you don't tell him you'll lose again.)
She sat down, and stared at him for what seemed like hours. She hadn't really thought about what to say, not after her asked her what that ment.
"Love is a game. I lost."
Cora felt her stomach twisting and she blinked her wide eyes.
It was silent for a while after that, His eyes boring into hers and she Looked down occasionally.
"My ex-Boyfriend...Beat and raped me." She whispered after what seems like hours.
Suddenly, the pain on her chest is gone, and she can breathe properly. She feels free of a heavy burden for the first time in a year.
Jason stared at her with so many emotions in his eyes, there was one she could not pinpoint.
"Cora...I won't let anyone hurt you, ever again. I promise.."
Didn't he know that if things kept going the way they were, He might as well be throwing her in front of a bus?
Suddenly, His Lips were pressed to hers gently, locked in a gentle embrace.
This was wrong. Her head screamed at her to stop (Stop! Your going to get hurt again.)
This was right. Her heart was telling her to never stop (Hold on tighter! Never let this moment end!).
But she kept on, loving the feeling of the rush.
Maybe she could learn to love, He could teach her.
Love was just a game, after all, But with a few prescise moves, You can get up from a loss, Dust yourself off, (even if takes a year or more,) and get back into a game you just might be able to survive.