I fuck her to stake my claim on her, the more I love her, the more she slips from my grip, over time it gets more violent, spiteful - I want to scream "Why can't you just be MINE?!" I want to grab her by the throat, she's taken every moral I held dearly and chewed it up and spat it out, she was making me into the guys that made her into the damaged, untangled knot of whatever the fuck she is.
We never talked about protection and although the last thing I needed was to create a child, but it would be another way of possessing her, I saw it as a kind of anchor, I secretly longed for it but it never seemed realistic. we never talked about it and I never asked, I came in her often and the only time she complained was when I ejaculated into her backside, she complained of discomfort - she left a skinny little exclamation mark of semen on a dark cushion she sat on afterwards. I'm not going to make an assumption as to whether she would have been a good mother or not, she was not mentally well that was for sure but whether a persona of 'mother' would have brought some sunshine and structure to her life? I couldn't say, I didn't want a child for any of the right reasons and as an addict, I offered nothing that would be of use, I'd be a worthless father but if it meant I kept her, I was willing to.
I liked to get a into a good position to view when she carve herself up, firstly it taken so long to earn her trust for her to display her most intimate wounds, now to be able to watch her work some brand new razor blades over her arms and legs was a treat, watching her cut was a real art. The first few times I was allowed to watch I suddenly found myself ridiculously tense, as if I were in a dentists chair and had noticed my knuckles were white. when she was drunk she'd hack at herself with little to no care and I'd have to be on my toes to make sure that arteries or her neck, nipples or anything of beauty would not be carelessly sliced. Sometimes she worked in lines, Left to Right slicing deeply and repeatedly long gashes along her frail, skinny arms - like a machinist, working to an almost minute degree of accuracy, as long as I was watching I felt there was an element of control, sometimes I wanted her to lose control.
I was dreading her birthday, In my head it was a case of damage management, I knew I had enough pills to fucking annihilate myself if the need arose, it would be nice.. no wonderful just to have her ENJOY at least some of the day. I had been buying her gifts for months prior and hiding them, occasionally giving her something but I had amassed little more than a santa sack of Books, Films, Music and a Sizeable amount of cash so she could buy Lingerie, I would say 'clothes money', it'd make me sound like less of a douche but in the end that's what she loved spending cash on, Bra's, Knickers and shit - frankly I couldn't give a fuck, I thought she was beautiful no matter what, scars, knife at my throat...whatever, she was beautiful, delicate, morally alien. Gifts were given out over the course of the day, even I was surprised at how much stuff I had accumulated - she kissed me, lots. A few black clouds appeared over her head during the day and she actually apologised for snapping at me when they struck all of which lulled me into the false sense of security I'd been working on for months.
the sex was furious and frantic, birthday joy had given way to spitting in each others faces as we slap-fucked angrily away, I grabbed her throat and tried to summon enough spit to put her in her place, I spat as little as I could gather into her mouth and screamed 'FUCK YOU!" into her face, 'fuck you' as I bit into her shoulder, coming between her legs. I had barely regained composure before going down on her, if all had gone my way I'd have licking her pussy all day but with her.. nothing goes my way and the fact I had planned this in any degree was stupid even to a stupid asshole like me. I stuck my face in our joint bodily fluid mess and got going, it was still fragrant and ultimately hugely pleasant, she grabbed my hair and guided me although when she came I had to hold my ground so to speak in order to make her scream, she wasn't often very vocal but I was hitting the right spot again and again - and fuck screaming mercy, this was as close to heaven as I was getting. Later she returned the favour, rarely would she 'dirty herself' giving me head but when she did, it wasn't something I'd forget easily. I closed my eyes to make it last and shot an extraordinarily huge amount of semen into her throat, she both coughed and laughed it down as I regained composure, I was I terrified I had choked her. We kiss again, its great, as she breathes out I can smell my come, I crunch up four green pills and wash them down with water, she swigs some tea and tells me she loves me - perfect.
In my head I term it 'The Snap' when she flits from order to chaos, one of the moments it happens is when I make the mistake of feeling in any way content and so as the inevitable rush of joy from my Oxycontin hit me so too did the realisation that a day engineered for her pleasure had to end badly, it had to. All it took was for me to nod off whilst taking a shit, not long too before I saw her paler than usual face on my pillow, she gave a faint smile to me and I told her that no matter what she'd done, I wasn't taking her to the hospital. When I pulled the covers back she had truly butchered herself, it even shocked ME, some of the larger gashes on her arms seemed to hang open of their own volition, her thighs were lacerated and her knickers drenched with blood where her hands had been. I swept her up in my arms as I lay with her "I FUCKING love you!", I sobbed uncontrollably, "More than anything.." I knew as well as she did that she had so little control over herself that this would have happened sooner or later anyway but today, on this day I'd spent so much time working towards.. it genuinely broke my heart. I dressed the worst of her wounds, I was happy when she got a little more colour in her cheeks.
It'd be moronic to have held her mental illness against her, I had to accept it, I SHOULD have accepted it by now but I was angry, I ground my way through more Oxycontin pills than was really sensible and she realised she wasn't going to get much life from me today. One of my least favourite feelings is coming up on opiates whilst hearing something upsetting or being presented with a shocking piece of news, I was once dumped over the phone as I was on a come up, its disorientating, nauseating and frankly annoying. Most of my life was that exact feeling now, she had me in an almost constant state of shock and I remained fucked up in order to stay in control. I earned her trust where others couldn't (or simply WOULDN'T, I had to jump through a lot of hoops to be where I am) I felt a duty to her, to the best of my ability I would at least try to protect her from herself. Right now though, I'm going to take her over the kitchen table, I held her by the scruff of the neck and did just that, not a word was uttered between us the whole time, my anger was more than clear with how rough I was, pulling her hair and holding her skinny little shoulders as I pounded. I felt like an asshole when I had finished but I was learning to use sex (either for better or worse) as an outlet for the anger that she made well up in me.
An hour later she was nose-deep in a text book, why her fearsome intelligence was wasted on me was a mystery, I sometimes thought I might be a cruel psychology experiment, so young, so much younger than me and so much MORE intelligent, I loved it - she was incredible, what's more is that she never seemed to think I was any less clever, jeez for all the abuse that went back and forth, she would never let me feel like I was behind anyone, If I said anything that made me seem like I was making fun of myself, she'd be deeply offended. that in itself, was pretty cool. The fact that she knew and understood her own mental illness was the thing that never ceased to fascinate and horrify me, she was watching her own downfall with more understanding than she really should have, she knew the big picture.
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