Why can’t I feel anymore? I miss you so much, I hate you. I don’t care about you. I don’t want you.
I’m sorry. I hate you. I actually hate you. I hated you so much. I hated you all along. But I wanted your hair. I lusted after you, everything you looked like you were to me. I got close, I snatched, I caught you by the mouth, I wiled at my catch, like a fisherman next to a wild salmon, not that you were that hard to catch.
You don’t matter to me anymore.
I ate you down to the bones and wanted to bring you back to life. I wanted a meal when you should’ve been a love.
You don’t even exist anymore. Not in my world. How can I live? How…?
Why do I keep making you mean something? Making something mean something out of what we had?
I miss you.
I miss our life together.
I miss the laughter, the life, the meaning, the pain, the lovingness, the kindness, the sweetness, the gentle and quiet moments, the quiet that I used to share with you.
I am not alive anymore.
I was never capable of loving you, but you were capable of loving me all along. Tolerating my bullshit as it took the shit out of you, took the light out of you, took the love out of you.
I hope you live a life I never see, one so beautiful that you can’t contain the joy.
I wish you the best of joy, the best of life, the quiet moments, the joy, the contentment, someone who means something to you.
I’m mostly guilty that I didn’t see how precious you were to me before it was too late, before you decided you loved yourself more than you loved me.
And that’s good. Hate me all you want. I don’t want you to, but you will.
I hate you.
Don’t remember that.