Friday~ Prompt-A movie script ending.
1) Having a very loving, and wonderful relationship with my father. It ended when I got pregnant, and began to tell him lies about very important things.
2) Loving, there have been a few men in my life that I had really considered something very special to me. Somehow, it always came to an end because of something I did, and did not realize I was doing. It was not like they really spoke to me about why things became sour. They didn't really give me clues, it just ended. I wanted them to work, I wanted to be normal, but it just is not in the cards for me. It may never be.
3) This last summer, it had been the highlight of my life. Things were going wonderfully, but then everything seemed to go downhill very quickly, as winter came around.
4) Working on becoming the thing that my father was terrified I was becoming. I thought I had found two lovely mentors, but they turned out to not be the mentor's I originally thought they would be. Too much humanity for something that was meant to not have any.
5) Being able to easily flirt with someone, male or female. I had no remorse for those things that I wanted. Sex, sex, and more sex. Things became complicated instead. Morals are terrible things.
The smell of my perfume clung to the air around me, it reminded me of all the times that I got dressed up to see them. I can still remember the luscious feelings of trust, and caring that I always felt around them. Wanting to protect them, and keep them safe. Then it all came rushing back to me, the fact that I am different then other girls. I never had been what one would call normal. From childhood I could always remember how I saw intimacy, and violence as something to be cherished, to be chased after with all of my being. The lying, the precautions, the intensity...all of it fueled my fires, pushed me to find my own idea of bliss. Then I met them, they brought out some form of humanity in me, a need to protect--especially after the birth of my daughter, my nurturing side came out in full effect. I wanted to hold them, caress them, fill them with safety, even if there was a secret part of me that craved the blood, the terror, the fear. I needed it, but with them I could suppress it, for a time. I could mimic the idea of a normal human being, I could try to be what they needed me to be, but I am broken. Always have been, always will be. Each of them saw this crack inside of my thin veneer, and because of this they each departed in their own ways. I can remember them all fondly, but it is for the best. Now, when I put on perfume, or something slinky--it is no longer for someone, some person that I am pretending to be something I am not. It is no longer the mask I need to be humane, it is more of a reminder of those things I tried to attain, and failed to do so. It is a reminder that I am something more sinister, and that sinister part of me is what got me to the place I am in now. This is a place I feel comfortable with, a place I now nurture, and pull close to me lovingly. My difference is now my one and only. It is my driving need now, it is the pulse that keeps me alive
2) Loving, there have been a few men in my life that I had really considered something very special to me. Somehow, it always came to an end because of something I did, and did not realize I was doing. It was not like they really spoke to me about why things became sour. They didn't really give me clues, it just ended. I wanted them to work, I wanted to be normal, but it just is not in the cards for me. It may never be.
3) This last summer, it had been the highlight of my life. Things were going wonderfully, but then everything seemed to go downhill very quickly, as winter came around.
4) Working on becoming the thing that my father was terrified I was becoming. I thought I had found two lovely mentors, but they turned out to not be the mentor's I originally thought they would be. Too much humanity for something that was meant to not have any.
5) Being able to easily flirt with someone, male or female. I had no remorse for those things that I wanted. Sex, sex, and more sex. Things became complicated instead. Morals are terrible things.
The smell of my perfume clung to the air around me, it reminded me of all the times that I got dressed up to see them. I can still remember the luscious feelings of trust, and caring that I always felt around them. Wanting to protect them, and keep them safe. Then it all came rushing back to me, the fact that I am different then other girls. I never had been what one would call normal. From childhood I could always remember how I saw intimacy, and violence as something to be cherished, to be chased after with all of my being. The lying, the precautions, the intensity...all of it fueled my fires, pushed me to find my own idea of bliss. Then I met them, they brought out some form of humanity in me, a need to protect--especially after the birth of my daughter, my nurturing side came out in full effect. I wanted to hold them, caress them, fill them with safety, even if there was a secret part of me that craved the blood, the terror, the fear. I needed it, but with them I could suppress it, for a time. I could mimic the idea of a normal human being, I could try to be what they needed me to be, but I am broken. Always have been, always will be. Each of them saw this crack inside of my thin veneer, and because of this they each departed in their own ways. I can remember them all fondly, but it is for the best. Now, when I put on perfume, or something slinky--it is no longer for someone, some person that I am pretending to be something I am not. It is no longer the mask I need to be humane, it is more of a reminder of those things I tried to attain, and failed to do so. It is a reminder that I am something more sinister, and that sinister part of me is what got me to the place I am in now. This is a place I feel comfortable with, a place I now nurture, and pull close to me lovingly. My difference is now my one and only. It is my driving need now, it is the pulse that keeps me alive