The Great Pretender

Your name came up today. I’m usually unaffected when this happens. Today it stopped me in my tracks.

I want to scream in your face that I hate you, that I hate you more than anyone on this screwed up plant. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU.

But why hate you? You wouldn’t be hurt by my hate. You wouldn’t be affected; not phased in any capacity. For if you can’t feel love, you can’t feel anything.

I am happy. Yeah, I am happy. What people see is real. I exude happiness. I am happy…

I am happy yet I am behind because I allowed you to misdirect my concentration, my hustle. I allowed you to storm into the cafes, slam my laptop closed, and walk outside with it so that I couldn’t study for the gre. My focus; nonexistent. My goals; unobtainable. You liked having that control over someone because controlling your own life was a total impossibility. & I allowed this lack of control. My silly, naive, stupid, innocent self allowed this bullshit.

Yet when I think about that period in my life, I don’t ever think of you. Your twelve hours a week that I was allowed doesn’t cross my mind at all. In fact, twenty-three was my best year thus far. Ironic, right?

This shows me that the minute I ran from you was the minute I was back in control. My past does not effect my present.

Then why does my soul ache tonight? Why am I so disappointed in myself? Why am I in bed so early?

They say times heals. How much more time must this take?

 

Perhaps the size of my wound is the size of your fat ass.

 

Perhaps I’m making progress.

 

 

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