I should've known from the very beginning he would have a hand in my destruction. But I was stupid. I was blind. I was curious and hopeful and delighted and in love.

My world went from dull and flat to flying colors and racing heartbeats. Perfect nights under star-lit skies, his hand in mine. The memories make me ill, faint, nostalgic. The memories of his subtle smirk and wide eyes still stab at my heart; no matter what I do, these memories will not fade. Six years, over, gone, in the blink of an eye. And he is still in my heart.

I know he doesn't know the despair he's given me. Or her. Or so many others. He feeds like an animal, taking what he needs, satisfied, leaves.

And beauty marks that splendid bruise, like a kiss, like a gentle whisper that I'll never, ever forget.

Thanks for reading~reviews are appreciated :)