I hate you, but not in so many words. It’s more a feeling, a new constant.
When I eat and then need to vomit or when I cannot stop eating for a whole day;
After bread, fruit, popcorn, cheese, ice cream. You are there.
When I go to bed and have nightmares or lay awake for hours.
When I feel happy and then question if it is only denial (that’s you).
When I believe that I could sleep with anyone and it wouldn’t matter
(That I could date anyone, that I could dump anyone,
that I could live with just about any guy, without it making a difference in my life)
When I think I could never love again or doubt if I ever did at all (yep, you too).
When I need to talk about it but I can’t; the words stop at my lips, the tears never come out.
When I have to change the subject or say “well, that’s life.”
When at 10 pm on a Sunday I need to write it all down,
The constant feeling that you embedded in me can be most easily described as hatred
(I hate you, but not in so many words, it’s something different that I have never known or named before).
Epilogue.
Then I wish you never existed.
Then I know that you are my brand new baggage.
I understand that you have made me more difficult to like, almost impossible to love.
You made me a girl with trust issues an older woman.
That sad story that nobody what’s to tell.
And I do, in a quiet and daily way, hate you.