Dirty Things

How is it possible to truly hate someone you once loved so much?

Well, it’s easy if that person is Enzo Black.

He was never hard to hate. It was loving him that was painfully difficult.

Loving him almost broke me—almost. Instead, it turned me into a crazy, heartless shell.

Ruthless. Cruel. Callous. Enzo Black is the man your mama, your auntie, your grandma, and your neighbor warned you about. He’s the man you avoid in a bar, on the street, and in the produce aisle. He’s the man you want but can’t have because he’s devoid of anything close to something worth having. Enzo black is a soulless void, one I still love, but sometimes I wonder if I actually love the man or if I’m addicted to all the dirty things he does to me.

It’s probably both.

Language and material.