Going through this right now. The mind's mixture of love, obsession, and possessiveness for the one who betrayed, hurt and emotionally (and feels like physically) dragged me through hell and back, causing me to slump into a bitter dark place, where I can only assume Elvis was when he wrote this.
This song hits it's mark right in the centre of the heart, you can't help but stop and hang on every brilliant, honest and raw word.
"He tossed some tattered compliment your way, And you were fool enough to love it When he said "I want you"" - Constantly asking yourself what he possibly could have said that she could not refuse or say 'no' to.
"I want to know the things you did that we do too. I want to hear he pleases you more than I do." - Hearing that they did the things were 'special' to us kills me the most. And I for some reason am addicted to feeling the pain, asking the questions, not stopping and needing to find out more after the first confirmation there was something going on. A painful and dangerous addiction.
"Did you call his name out as he held you down? Oh no, my darling, not with that clown..." - Constant images of this every day, especially as I go to bed. The mental image makes my physically ill.
Going through this right now. The mind's mixture of love, obsession, and possessiveness for the one who betrayed, hurt and emotionally (and feels like physically) dragged me through hell and back, causing me to slump into a bitter dark place, where I can only assume Elvis was when he wrote this.
This song hits it's mark right in the centre of the heart, you can't help but stop and hang on every brilliant, honest and raw word.
"He tossed some tattered compliment your way, And you were fool enough to love it When he said "I want you"" - Constantly asking yourself what he possibly could have said that she could not refuse or say 'no' to.
"I want to know the things you did that we do too. I want to hear he pleases you more than I do." - Hearing that they did the things were 'special' to us kills me the most. And I for some reason am addicted to feeling the pain, asking the questions, not stopping and needing to find out more after the first confirmation there was something going on. A painful and dangerous addiction.
"Did you call his name out as he held you down? Oh no, my darling, not with that clown..." - Constant images of this every day, especially as I go to bed. The mental image makes my physically ill.