I Found Love in a Hopeless Place

I had a dream about Zane the other night, an ex I prefer not to re-visit so it seemed strange that he had managed to enter my subconscious thoughts. I woke up revelling in the uncanny similarities of our past relationships and that of the make-believe one I had created indicating what any present communication would be comparable to. He was still betraying his ex with me, only this time there was no fooling myself, I was very aware of the deception I was participating in and there was about as much love and affection present as there used to be when he was unaware I was mindful to his foul play.
“It’s like you’re screaming and no one can hear. You almost feel ashamed that someone could be that important, that without them you feel like nothing. No one will ever understand how much it hurts. You feel hopeless, like nothing can save you. And when it’s over and it’s gone, you almost wish you could have all the bad stuff back, so you can have the good.”
The spoken words at the start of ‘We found love,’ 66 words I can relate to as if I had ordered them myself, 66 words that could sum up over 9 months of my life. At 16 years old its difficult to comprehend love, an emotion, a figurative feeling that has the ability to consume a soul, prioritize an unworthy person and isolate an individual into a sour relationship. For a long time I fought a battle with myself, it didn’t take long to realise I had entered a partnership that was one-sided and despite how hard I fought nothing was ever able to balance the distribution of power… No one came close to understanding the control he had over me, my actions became more and more unreliable and unexplainable, my friends wearied of hearing the same tales of mistreat and neglect and my family fretted over the situations I placed myself in. All I cared about was pleasing him in a hope he may at some point develop true feelings, any sense of reality and awareness was lost as I became trapped in a world I never belonged to.
The spell broke early 2011, two and a half years after he entered my life and stole my naivety, a relief and a victory. I haven’t heard from him since I last rejected his poor attempt to tempt me back into his bed, the longest we have gone estranged- for all I know he could be back in prisonor expecting baby number three with his deluded and trapped on-off childhood sweetheart. I doubt I will ever be able to forget the pain and tears he caused and created, the broken shell he left of a once a vibrant and intelligent girl nor the relationships torn apart by my inability to forget such an emotional hold after the initial storm passed. Despite his careless and selfish actions, no one could come close to making me feel the way I felt during those limited times of happiness.
I will never miss the relationship I had with Zane, nor wish for it back, but I do occasionally wonder what made that bond so strong, that feeling so intoxicating, that love so consuming… Only time is able to mend a broken heart, heal a wounded ego and rebuild a  broken person, no amount of comforting words nor endless lectures can make a person realise the poison they’ve allowed into their system… the curse can only be broken by one’s own will, your own want to escape.
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