The Passion of Hatred

It is so hard to let go of the past. The past makes us who we are today and yet, we can't just put it behind us, let it remain in the past and focus on the future. Why? How?

I remember an encounter I had with my abusive boyfriend. He came home a little drunk one night. He came in the room, and in the bed. I was fast asleep. The next thing I knew his tongue was all over my body. He started kissing me from my calves up, my knees, my thighs, my back, my ass and he moved up my body till I felt his tongue trying to push in my mouth. The familiar taste of Heinikin was on his breath. I found it so sexy. I kissed him back lightly and asked him if he was ok. He then told me how much he loved me. I'm his woman forever and I'm #1. I guess it was these drunken rants that made me believe that he really did love me despite the horrible beatings I experienced. I mean, when you're under the influence of alcohol, you usually tend to speak what's really in your head right?

I told him I loved him too and we started to kiss passionately. Our lips and tongue were all over each other. He was hard and I love the feel of his pulsating dick inside my mouth. I was equally pleased when he placed his head between my thighs and started to eat me as if it was going to be his last meal. We continued to caress each other, taste each other, hurt each other. I couldn't take the torture anymore. I begged him to fuck me. Hard. The way I like it. He didn't refuse. When he started to fuck me, he looked into my eyes and with every thrust he gave me, said something nice. He loved me, he loved the way my pussy felt on his dick, the way I move my ass beneath him, the way my juices covered him, the smell, the taste, the fact that I was all his, he will never leave me, he can't believe I'm all his. We fucked. Him on top of me, me on top of him, him behind me, him beside me. It was wonderful. Feeling him, giving him pleasure, getting pleased myself. Complete bliss climaxed by me coming hard and him returning the favour inside me.

He fell asleep, and I cried. Cried because of the pain I know I'd probably feel the next day when he hits me for some bull shit, cried because I couldn't say truthfully to myself that we had just made love, cried because deep down, I loved him and it was all mixed up with my hatred for him. Then, I just felt like I couldn't walk away.

And then learned a few weeks later that a life had been created on that night which for me was filled with sexual pleasure but deep emotional pain.