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As she stood in the pouring rain, thoughts of him came to her mind. The last time she seen him it was raining just like today. It was the last time she touched his face, felt his lips on hers. They had made love that day, made love in the pouring rain.
Not a day had gone by that she had not thought of him and that day. The day the storm tore her heart in two.
She could close her eyes and see him, every little detail, down to the mold on his cute tush. Why did he leave her? What did she do wrong? So many questions left unanswered.
She thought she was the perfect lover. She did things for him and with him that she would never do for any one. Why was it not enough for him?
After all this time he still remained locked deep inside her mind and heart.
Late at night when the phone would ring she would always hope it would be him at the other end of the line. Saying, "hey baby, guess who this is". She knew the answer and what he wanted. It was always the same. But since that rainy day the calls had stopped.
All she had left was fading memories.
Memory of the first time he held her hand, touched her face, kissed her lips.
Made love to her. But in reality he did not make love to her. He got his pleasure, his relieve and then he dumped her at the door like a whore on a street corner.
She deserved better but her heart ached for him. Why? That was a question she could not answer. She would lie in the dark thinking of him, wishing he would just come back one more time. Just once more. She would do anything for him.
Minutes turn to hours, hours into days as she waited for him. But what was she waiting for; more pain, more heartache. He was not worth it. He only loved himself.
When you care about someone you treat them with respect.
He treated her like a slut, his own free whore, someone to call at a moment notice after the women at the bar would turn him down.
He knew she would never tell him no. Never ask to be pleased in return. The only pleasure was the pleasure he received from her.
He didn't have to buy her dinner or take her to a movie. It was like a drive thru service. Drive in, pick her up, fuck her and dump her off.
He did not care that she would go in and wash her body till it was red and raw, trying to wash away the feeling of being raped. Wash it away from her body and mind.
How would he feel if someone treated his sister or daughter this way? Did he not have a heart?
Did he think because she was over weight and not pretty that he could treat her this way. She was a good person. She was a lonely person just wanting someone to love.
After he would drop her off she would tell herself, NEVER AGAIN but she knew she was lying to herself. All he had to do was call, it never matter what time the call came. She would always allow him to enter her world. To be his whore.
It had been five months since she gently kissed his lips, closed her eyes and went to her own private fantasy world as he climbed on top of her and fucked her like a piece of meat. In her fantasy he made love to her. Treated her special. Took care of her needs. But it was only a fantasy.
As she stood in the pouring rain, the tears poured down her face and faded into the raindrops falling on the ground.
Someday someone would see her inner beauty. When that day came he would be a lucky man. For she would do anything to please her lover. Anything to have a man love her.
The world is full of lonely people. Searching for someone to love them, someone to give their love to in return. In her search she had only found pain. She had been used so many times. Each night as she cried herself to sleep she would ask herself, "WHY can't I find someone to love me for the person I am". "The only thing I ask is to be loved, will love ever come"?
"If I died tonight would anyone miss me? Would anyone know that I am no longer alive"? She knew the answer, no one would care. The men who used her in the past had moved on. Finding someone new to use, someone new to hurt.
Some would say she had the world's biggest heart she would do anything to please her man. But if you looked deep into her soul you would see that her heart had been broken into a million pieces, broken in her search for love.
As she took the last sleeping pill she drifted off to her fantasy. In her fantasy she was pretty, she had someone to love her and make love to her. She prayed that this time it would work, that she would not awake from her fantasy. That she would finally be at peace, never to be used or hurt again.
At her funeral no one was there. No one to cry, no one to speak her name. She left this world all alone. With a broken heart that no one could
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