"Give that weed some rest and if you love me enough stop using it" she said as her hands ran through my hair and her hazel eyes screamed concern. My lips curved into a phony smile as I left the blunt on the mahogany table alone and followed her to our bed. How I love the way she holds me within her condescending yet calming embrace. Everytime I catch myself watching her sleep I give my vanity a direct stab in the heart. I am stuck in her love and she continues to be my favourite drug.
I straighten my tie and watch her as she dutifully wraps up a sandwich for my lunch and winks at me as she catches me gawking. A tender kiss, a naughty whisper in my ear about the menu for the night and she pushes me off to work.
Giving her a call during my coffee breaks has become a custom and hastily cutting it after talking to me for less than a minute has become hers. Shopping she says or Hanging out with her Girls she says. Sometimes I miss her enough to drive back home during my breaks just to surprise her and tell her she means the world. Now I regret doing that. Ignorance is bliss I say.
I want to see the pain in her eyes as she dies. I have wanted to kill her since that day. I grab my coat and run towards my car. A gun rests under my seat as I drive home, hands trembling and jaw clutched tight compressing the feeling of pure disgust. I see my home and I can already visualize what lies within. I walk towards the side of our bedroom and raise the curtains only enough to see the silhouette of two people tied together in ecstasy, moans managing to leave the walls.
Certain emotions cannot be defined. They are too overpowering. I move away from the wall, walk back to my car and smile at the gun in my hand. I had bought it 3 months back just to give her story an end and it’s still not used.
As night visits, she crawls inside the blanket with me and tells me about the day. How busy the house cleaning kept her. How beautiful she looks as she lies. “Not tonight” she says and prepares to sleep, as I walk towards the balcony for a roll of weed.
“If you love me stop using it. It will kill you one day” she shouts as I close the bedroom door.
I am addicted. Yes I am and you woman, you are killing me.