Monica Murphy

The girl is an expert dick sucker. Does that sound awful? Yes. Do I still consider her a whore? Confirmed.

But now she’s my whore, and I don’t share.

Still he does nothing. Just watches me with that same expression on his face. The beautiful, cold statue in the garden. Cold. Unmoving.

It’s a façade though. His eyes give him away.

He sometimes becomes poetic when he speaks of hurting me

I treat her terribly.

Sounds like everyone else does too.

I should’ve never worn this stupid costume. I was asking for trouble from the moment I appeared at the party like this

Sometimes I would think you weren’t real. You couldn’t be that perfect

I have no idea what it’s like, to be in a normal relationship. Something long-term and full of love. I’m young, almost twenty, I still have plenty of time.

But I long for that. For a man to look at me with hunger in his gaze. To reach for me as if he can’t help himself. I want to be adored. Ravished. Loved. I want it to be big and wonderful and messy and overwhelming.

there’s power in knowing that someone wants you.

I remember how he made me feel. His cruel words, his brutal kiss.

I’ve been chasing after that feeling ever since.

Money protects you. Insulates you. Those who win in the game of life, always win when they have the most money.

Unfair, but whoever said life was fair? I’ve also learned that the hard way.