Putting the fun back in dysfunctional.
Why is it so hard?
Her hands shook as she looked into familiar eyes. Her eyes darted to soft, red lips. She knew they were soft, she had touched them many times. She recalled their softness now, wanting to touch, anything to distract her.
But the lips started moving anyway. “I love you.” The voice sounded far away.
She closed her eyes and took a breath. When her lids fluttered open, the same eyes still stared at her.
She shook her head. She couldn’t believe those words. She didn’t know why it was so hard to believe them.
The voice spoke softer this time. “I love you.”
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She tried to push them back, but one escaped, leaving a trail of wet on her cheek.
She turned away from the eyes. She fled the room at a moderate pace.
Why was it so hard to say she loved herself?