He wrapped his strong arms around my slender waist,
Enveloping me with ease.
He slowly, tenderly leaned towards me and brought his lips close to mine,
Almost touching, but not in the least.
When our lips finally met-
His, cold and gentle against mine, relatively warmer-
I could feel his heart racing,
Beating against his ribs with such urgency, as though it was beating to break free and explode.
His breath was heavy; my hands rested on his chest-
I could feel his warmth beneath them, his passion was nearly tangible.
And I felt nothing.
Nothing, at all.

She raised her arm, ready to strike,
But she paused for a moment, giving me time
To let it sink in, what was coming;
To let me know that I was going to be in pain, paying for my words.
I did not flinch, I stood my ground, looking into her eyes;
Mocking her, challenging her.
Did she really think physical pain would change me?
Her hand connected with my face with a loud smack-
Her strength was something I couldn’t deny-
I sensed its ripples passing through my cheek,
Like a stone that disturbs the calm of a lake with a resounding splash.
I could see the mix of remorse and rage flash through her eyes,
And I felt nothing.
Nothing, at all.

I watched the fire roar,
It turned to ash everything that dared come in its grasp,
It cackled like a witch, consuming, in seconds, the home that had taken years to build-
Years of laying each brick of smiles, tears and warmth,
Beside another of memories,
Before the house was deemed worthy of being called a home-
It was gone, and all that remained of it were dying embers.
I could feel the heat burning my skin, the smoke choking my lungs,
I could feel everything that the building that stood for die,
Along with the dying embers.
It would slowly fade, with the ashes that would soon fly away.
I could sense a hollow,
And I felt nothing.
Nothing, at all.

I had thought about it,
Over and over, over and over,
I had imagined every possible outcome and prepared myself for it.
I had seen it coming.
I felt the kiss long before we kissed,
I knew what a slap would feel like
Even before she decided to hit me.
I had smelled the flames long before they broke out.
I was immunized, desensitized.
Everything was more intense in my thoughts and vivid imagination.
I was always told that when you think of something over and over, over and over,
It loses its meaning,
It loses its power,
It loses its ability to provoke.
I felt nothing,
I had already felt enough in response to my thoughts and imaginations,
To have any emotion left for reality.
I felt nothing.


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