Author: evillatina

you are my downfall, I hate to admit it.

what is it about you that brings me to my knees? Figuratively though, because I never let my legs touch the floor when I’m pleasing you.

My balance surprises you sometimes. Leaves you breathless, maybe?

It would be so much better if you didn’t know what you do to me…but a dumb man you are not, even though I lovingly call you my dummy.

I refused to cry for you, or over you, and I held it in for months. One night, it all burst through the stronghold and I cried senselessly, realizing and accepting that you did not love me with the same intensity that I loved you. How foolish I am, for falling in love with you.

I am seeing you today,

and I have to admit I am a little nervous.

As strong as I know I am, you are my downfall.

You are the spear that pierces through me and brings me down. My final blow.

I am not sure what will happen after today.

It feels almost as if this affair was a complicated game of chess.

I am unsure how I was able to get this far. Pure luck, most likely, as that tends to be the foundation of all my successes. Because I don’t know anything about this game, I played it cool. But I had you fooled though, in the first half, enough to make you nervous and believe that I did.

now its me who’s nervous, I have no counsel. but god, do I love a challenge and the adrenaline of having everything on the line.

tw: DV, nc, rape, abuse

B,

you are not the gorgeous hunter in the story, but maybe you were in your youth.

I am constantly thinking about you, only because I am trying to forget you.

H

I hate it when a brown or black man leaves his brown or black significant other for a white woman. As they say, “when he gets on, he’s going to leave for a white woman”

I had never thought too deeply about my skin, until I met Eladio.

He was an afro latino man and a few shades richer than I. He looked like a bronzed god whenever he was working outside on his yard or car. At 17, to me he was what a man should be. He had just turned 20.

At 17, I was already a romantic. I was enamored by life. I was able to find poetic beauty even in the ugliest things.

At 17, I was outgoing and the opposite of shy. I was the one who started to flirt with you. You weren’t very receptive. You later admitted to refusing to believe that I was indeed, seriously flirting with you, so you just ignored me.

One of my friends told you that I liked you. The beginning of our story was very playful, almost cute.

I realize that its the relationships that start from meaninglessness and nothing that evolve into passionate affairs.

You were my first love. Serious love. Strong love. It was a love that struck me and made me blind, deaf, and dumb.

Our love was something that honestly should have never happened.

You courted me, spoke me to on the phone for hours almost every night, telling me beautiful verses before I go to bed. I felt like I was living an Aventura song. Your love made me feel like I was a princess and you were my prince.

We started dating a couple months prior to my 18th birthday, and you convinced me to live together.

The first night living with you, reality set in and I refused to accept it. You raped me that first night, and afterward I was just in shock. I didn’t understand why you had to force it when I was so willing, just not like that. I had just turned 18 that week. We didn’t celebrate.

What I lived with you was like an epic poem. I cannot tell people the full details and extent of it in one go, because a quick relay of the story does it no justice. You built me up and destroyed me for 3 years.

You lied to me, flirted with other women in front of me. You destroyed my self esteem.

You crumbled my dreams and aspirations.

You made my life a complete misery for 3 years. I am still trying to build myself so no one can ever hurt me like you did.

I never hated my skin until I lived with you.

Whenever I was about to leave for good, you would switch it up between begging and bawling, on your knees, pleading for me to stay or insulting me until I couldn’t go outside because I was too embarrassed to let people see the state I was in.

Crying into my shirt and feet, as if you were Mary Magdalene and I the messiah. Begging for my forgiveness.

Throwing words that struck like knives, piercing through my skin and embedding themselves into my heart and soul. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, holding my ear close to your mouth telling me the most degrading things. Dehumanizing me. Making me cry until no more tears came out. Making me cry to the point I was gasping for air.

No one knows the extent of damage that you have done to me. You take the medal for the man that has most hurt me. The trophy for the most disappointments, that one belongs to my father.

You said I was ugly, and that no one would want me. Already down, you would say nonchalantly that a Güerita is waiting for you and in a heartbeat you would have her living with you instead of me. You lied and cheated on me more than once, and your friends, always covering you.

They would only tell me things when they felt especially bad for me. It was so embarrassing to go out looking for you on an empty stomach.

Why did I deserve to live that at 18?

You are gone from my life for ever, and every day I work hard to make sure I can elevate my lifestyle to a degree that seeing you again is an impossibility.

“When he gets on, he’s going to leave you for a white girl”

Every time I fuck a successful white man, I win. Because those white girls you fucked, were trailer trash and I feel silly for ever thinking they were better than me.