THE MAN WHO MADE HER FEEL ALIVE - When Every Kiss Feels Like A Climax, Every Fight Feels Like The End
He made her feel alive — but never safe
Story: S A Spencer
Author of Popular Fictions: The Pink Mutiny, The Black Waters, Dream In Shackles
THE STORM
Sophie Lang
was standing in the middle of a rain‑soaked street in Melbourne, her dress
clinging to her skin, mascara bleeding down her cheeks, while Aiden Cole
screamed at a taxi driver who’d refused to take them.
“You think
you can leave her standing here like this?” Aiden shouted, fists clenched.
The driver
rolled up his window and sped off.
Sophie
blinked through the downpour, heart thudding. She didn’t know whether to laugh
or cry. Aiden turned to her, eyes blazing, chest heaving.
“You okay?”
he asked, voice softer now.
She nodded.
He pulled her into his arms.
She felt like she was in a movie.
That was the
problem.
Everything
with Aiden felt like a scene — dramatic, intense, unforgettable. Their first
kiss had been in a thunderstorm. Their first fight had ended with him punching
a wall. Their first “I love you” came after a screaming match in a hotel lobby.
It wasn’t
love.
It was adrenaline.
But Sophie
didn’t know that yet.
She only
knew that when she was with him, the world felt louder. Brighter. Sharper.
And when she
wasn’t…
everything felt grey.
Sophie
realises she’s not in love with Aiden — she’s addicted to the way he makes her
feel.
THE RUSH
They met at
a gallery opening.
Sophie was there for the art.
Aiden was there for the chaos.
He crashed
into her — literally — spilling wine on her dress, laughing, apologising,
charming everyone in the room. He was magnetic. Wild. Unpredictable.
By the end
of the night, she was in his car, windows down, music blasting, her hair
whipping in the wind.
That was
their rhythm.
One night,
he took her to a rooftop bar and climbed over the railing just to “feel the
wind.”
She screamed.
He laughed.
She kissed him anyway.
Another
night, he got into a fight with a bartender who refused to serve him after
midnight.
Sophie tried to calm him down.
He told her she was “too soft.”
She cried in
the bathroom.
He didn’t come after her.
But the next
morning, he showed up at her door with flowers and a handwritten note:
You make me feel like I’m not broken.
She forgave
him.
She always did.
Then came
the weekend trip.
Aiden booked
a cabin in the Dandenong Ranges. No signal. No neighbours. Just them.
The first
night was perfect — wine, firelight, laughter.
The second
night, he disappeared.
Sophie woke
up alone.
His phone was on the table.
His car was gone.
She waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At 3 a.m.,
he returned — drunk, scraped, bleeding.
“I needed
space,” he said.
She didn’t
ask questions.
She just cleaned his wounds.
Sophie
realises she’s not his partner — she’s his nurse, his audience, his emotional
sponge.
THE TRUTH
Back in
Melbourne, Sophie started seeing a therapist.
She didn’t
tell Aiden.
She told Dr.
Patel everything — the fights, the highs, the disappearances, the way her heart
raced when he walked into a room.
“I think I’m
in love,” she said.
Dr. Patel
tilted her head. “Or maybe you’re in withdrawal.”
Sophie
blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Adrenaline.
Dopamine. Cortisol. Your body’s addicted to the chemical chaos. That’s not
love. That’s survival.”
Sophie felt
something crack inside her.
She started
noticing things.
How Aiden
never asked about her day.
How he only touched her when he wanted something.
How he made her feel alive — but never safe.
One night,
she told him she needed space.
He laughed.
“You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
He stared at
her. “You’ll come back. You always do.”
She didn’t.
She moved
out.
Changed her number.
Blocked him.
But the
silence was deafening.
She missed
the chaos.
She missed the rush.
She missed the feeling of being alive.
Until Liam —
her old friend — invited her for coffee.
He listened.
He asked questions.
He didn’t make her heart race.
He made her
feel… calm.
And that
terrified her.
Dr. Patel
asked her one question:
“When was
the last time calm felt safe to you?”
Sophie
froze.
A memory
surfaced — her parents fighting, her hiding in her room, the silence afterward
feeling like a threat.
That was the
blueprint.
Her phone
buzzed.
Aiden.
I miss
you. I’m better now. Come back.
Sophie
stared at the screen.
And
everything inside her fractured.
Sophie
must choose between the man who made her feel alive — and the life that might
finally let her heal.
📌 AUTHOR NOTE
Thanks for reading The Man Who Made Her Feel Alive.
If Sophie’s story felt familiar, you’re not alone. Many of us mistake intensity
for intimacy — and healing can feel like silence.
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Your likes, shares, and subscriptions help this blog grow and keep these stories alive.
Tell me — have you ever mistaken chaos for love?
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