BROKEN

ANNA'S POV.

I couldn't stop the tears from falling down my face. I couldn't remember the point in my life when I had turned out to be so broken.

I was not okay and I knew that but I somehow never wanted to do something about it. It was like I was stuck somewhere and I couldn't get myself out of the mess that I was in.

I had loved a man so much that I had forgotten I also needed love. I wanted someone to take their time and know who I was.

I wanted someone to look at me and think that I was amazing. Someone who was treated in everything I did like he was still trying to know me.

I couldn't even count the number of days that I had slept in my bed crying myself to sleep. They were more than the days that I had slept happily.

Was it because I had never grown up with a man in my life who showed me how being loved felt like?

Sometimes I wondered what life could have been if I had grown up in a home with both loving parents. Would I have turned out differently?

Why was I so selfless?

I loved people way too much and I couldn't get the same back. I wondered if Vincenzo ever sat down and thought about me even for a second.

Maybe he thought I was desperate for trying to make things work between us but I loved him.

I thought that was what people did when they were in love. I thought that no matter how hard things got you were supposed to be always there to try and make things work.

I did it even care about myself, it was always him. I did not care if he made me angry most of the days. I loved the days that he made me smile.

I loved the days when we would just lay in bed and all I would be doing was smiling. I did not care if it was just one day.

After that day was over I would turn into a mess. Just laying there waiting and waiting for him to want me again so that he could make me feel special.

I 9ften wondered what it was this other woman had that I did not have. Was I that unlovable?

I wondered if maybe I was not pretty enough for him. I would look at myself in the mirror and hate every feature of mine because he couldn't love me.

I gagged every time I remembered that I had to beg him to have sex with him. I wasn't that unattractive.

Maybe the problem wasn't him. It was me all along.

I had decided to settle for that as long as he even gave me the slightest attention. Treated me like absolute trash because he knew at the end of the day I was still his wife.

I sometimes wondered if it was that big of a deal if I was a wife. I was a laughingstock to the people who knew Vincenzo.

I could tell by the way they looked at me. Questioning themselves and wondering what it was I saw in him.

They couldn't understand how greatly I felt for him though. He felt at home and a dream comes true.

Maybe to some people that was crazy because he was cold but it had never gotten better than that I never had a warm home and showed me love.

For the little days that he could show me, love, I cherished them. I could remember those little moments every time I was sad and it would bring a smile to my eyes.

The way he talked was enchanting even to me. The way he walked and the way he smiled it made me smile.

Yet he still couldn't give me what I always wanted him to give me. I never believed that he ever loved me even for a second.

I never felt loved and even for the moments that he loved me I had to ask for it.

Did I hate myself that much?

Did I think that it was okay? I would smile and make it look like I had the best husband someone could ever request.

I wanted him to be my person so badly but every time I tried doing something it felt like I was forcing myself. I was too much for him. I was too emotional.

He didn't want that. I had always thought that women were supposed to be emotional but to him, it seemed to be a mistake.

I could not even remember the last time I had sat down with him and enjoyed a night without thinking about the other women that he had been with during the whole time we were together.

I had always wondered if he treated them the same way he treated me or if he was way nicer to them

Thinking he was nicer to them used to kill me because I wanted to be them so bad.

I had even thought of changing my hair because maybe then he would like me. He would love me if I became someone that he wanted.

I wasn't the problem though, was I?

You couldn't expect someone that did not love themselves to know how to live with someone. To him I was replaceable.

Someone like that wasn't capable of love. He couldn't make someone happy and maybe that had been my problem.

I had relied so much on him that when I was happy he was the reason that I was pleased.

My every emotion was dictated by the way he treated me. I wasn't happy with myself how could I?

I didn't even know myself how could I expect someone to love me?

He treated me the way he did because he knew I didn't think that I deserved more .The thought itself made me choke on my saliva.

I was so damaged and broken I couldn't be fixed.