Hurt/betrayal/any title is so cliche.
There is no hope. There is no such thing as romantic love. If you're stupid enough to believe that "the one" is out there waiting for you, you are one of the lucky ones. Much like not-so-witty but oh-so-true adage "everyone dies" is the cold hard truth that "everyone lies". Perhaps it isn't such a harsh reality. Once you know and adjust- you can become superior. Completely immune to the frustration and sorrow. At 29, my goal is to no longer sob and weep when he hurts me. At 16, yes it was a surprise but at 29??? OF COURSE he fucked two other girls not even 24 hours after I left his bed. Never mind the fact that I am sexually obligated to an average of four men a week. When I do it, it's for entirely different reasons.
Coping- drugs and detachment. Perhaps the reason I like rough sex is because I can strip away all of the fluff and lose myself in the choking and name calling. No matter how smart, successful or attractive I am I will always be nothing more than just a gash.
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