I long... for this love... to be my demise.

Like an adolescents Las Vegas, neon lights shine on the water-stained boardwalk where hundreds of kids, age 13-19, roam around in wife beaters and bikinis. Instead of strippers and casinos, the lights draw the flies into piercing shops and carnival life.
That's Ocean City. A tourist trap. A dirty beach. Awkward stares.
That's where I met him. The love I never  knew I'd have, walked right up to me at a lecherous, sandy-floored bar. Seacrets... Is there some irony within that name or I am subconsciously making one?

The places my life has taken me has led me to some amazing people. He's not the first nor the last, but there's destruction in those big brown eyes. He plays it well... They look so innocent set into a tan cleanly-shaven face, with a body that has just the right amount of hair covered by cut-off shorts and hipster Tees.
He said to me -- the night it all ended -- "I want to be that guy you come home too." Meaning after I went out and had my fill of tongue and teeth and lips. No blood though. That's only for the really special.
That tune quickly changed and by no means am I upset with it. He is mine. And I won't be hypocritical; if I am going to be some territorial, selfish, craving sanguinaire, I will let him do the same. I don't mind being his chew toy.
It hasn't come without consequences though. I'm sure it has a lot to do with this new city that's eating me alive. Anyone that could help me resurface is leaving. And I'm trying to do the same, in my own way.

He leaves without telling me. A straight week of hugs and kisses, sweat and pounding sex means nothing to him when he's angry. And he gets angry at me quite a bit. I'm too open about the flaws that ail me. You can rein in the bad ass, but she'll always be there swimming through the veins ready to blurt out something inappropriate and test the limits. Although I've really tired hard to show him unconditional devotion, as far as I know the definition.
He said, "I've dated plenty of awesome girls" -- and just so I know I'm not even in the running -- "one for 6 years and one for 8 months, and they never said they were incomplete."
He's not dating them anymore so I'm guessing they weren't really that awesome. Not to say I am either... I think people like the calm just as much as they like the storm; they enjoy the warm tongue on their neck  as much as they like the teeth breaking the skin.
But... It's more appropriate to call those people liars. They probably do not mean to deceive, but I'm fascinated with how little self-awareness humans have.


And then I could hear nothing... But the ambulance. The cars sat still and topped their honking. The wind died and the rustle of leaves non-existent. The world had stopped in mid-action.
I almost felt compelled to stop walking, myself, as if the ambulance was coming to rescue me and everyone was watching, mouthing for me to stop and take a break, let someone care for me.
I'm heartbroken, you see. I need someone, especially right now, who understands me. But I won't get it... so...
I want the world to stop for me. I want everyone and everything to stand still will I walk all over it. I want to love and then crush. I want to create and then destroy. I am the god people speak of. I make that phantasmagoria in the sky humans. It is us.
Make all you can and rip apart even more. You will only find satisfaction, physically or mentally, once others have longed for you, once you know the pain of killing your own design, once you have been the cause of death. Once you have longed for an illusion, once someone has trampled on your design, and once they have caused your death.