bete noir

I hate what you’re doing to me. I hate what I am doing to myself, because it takes two.

I hate that you look at me like that, with her right next to you. I hate that I don’t exist in your world when she’s near. I hate that I stop breathing when you enter the room. I hate that my heart thumps when I hear your voice or your laugh.

I hate that I am hurt by this, that it makes me sad and jealous. I hate that I hear those songs, and crave your flesh. I hate that she sleeps next to you, and breathes your scent. I hate that she shares your life.

I hate that I am crying again over something I did to myself. I hate that I search for answers in the dark, blindly clutching at strings. I hate that I lie to friends and skate over all the bumps in my life. I hate when you touch me with your hands and the cool gold grazes my skin.

I hate that I miss you, that I’m disappointed when there is nothing in my Inbox. I hate that I avoid your glances because I feel neglected. I hate when you don’t look at me. I hate that I feel this way about you because it will never end with her, and instead I will have to end it with you.

I hate that I see only what I want to see, and when reality comes crashing in, I turn a blind eye. I hate that I think of you every day, every hour. I hate that you are present in my life, even when you aren’t around.

I hate that I hold onto hope, even when it’s clear as crystal there is none. I hate that I pray for a clear answer, and courage. Because I need help. I hate that I won’t stop looking for you. I hate that I deny the truth.

I hate that to get away from this situation I’d have to leave behind people I care about. I hate saying ‘goodbye’ to you. I hate when my imagination works overtime, and my intuition leads me astray.

I hate that I want answers but am too afraid to ask. I hate that I immediately knew a year ago how much I’d care about you now. I hate that we’re a paradox. I hate seeing that picture of you and feeling thirsty.

I hate that I want to be near you. I hate the way your hair is styled because I want to run my hands through it. I hate that even just after I’ve eaten, I’m hungry for you. I hate that I want to taste you on my lips. I hate that when I came back from holiday, I could’ve ended it. But I didn’t, because I’d miss you.

I hate that even when you’re a foot away from me, you’re still too far. I hate that I feel nauseous when I think of the worst. I hate that I want you so much.

I hate that I dream of you and when I wake my life feels empty. I hate that I’ve memorized your characteristics. I hate that I know the paths your veins take under your skin.

I hate that I wait for you to tell me. I hate that I measure everyone up against you, and they always fall short. I hate that I want to quit, stop, but I’m addicted. I hate that you hold back. I hate that you surprise me with sneak attack separations. I hate that I might not be the only one.

I hate that you have another life, one that I am not a part of. I hate that I didn’t meet you years ago. I hate that I will never have a permanent position in your life. I hate that I love you.