Vicious circle

You're kneeling on the cold asphalt, out of breath, your heart pounding. Your lungs are burning from that run through the streets, as if you were trying to run away from yourself. But you didn't run. You ran. To him.

This whole month, you tried to live without him. You told yourself it would be better this way, that you deserved something bright. But your damned kindness and pity tore your soul apart from the inside. You pitied him, imagining how lonely he was, how maybe he was hurting too. You forgot all the insults, the gossip, that heavy, possessive look. You remembered only the rare smiles and moments of false intimacy.

And here you are. At his entrance. Seeing him coming out, your legs gave way beneath you, and you collapsed before him in a silent fit of despair and hope.

He looks down at you, and you feel small, insignificant. Then he slowly squats down to be level with you. His face lights up with a cool, recognizable smile, sending shivers down your spine.

"Has it really dawned on you that life without me is terrible? Or just... come visit?" His voice is calm, without a hint of surprise. Only confidence. Confidence that you will always come back.

And you realize he's right. You're back here, at the feet of the man who hurt you. And in that moment, you hate not him, but your own weakness, your inability to break this vicious cycle. You're back. And this realization leaves your soul as cold and empty as his smile.