but now you
you know how i hate to be tied down. anchored to a feeling. hung by the ropes in hopes of the slightest of affection. how could you be so carefree and stupid and inconsiderate to subject me to such notion?
we wouldn’t be a good match, and surely you’ve noticed that, even in your limited capabilities of understanding hatred. you put your heart in a huge, colorful packet and ship it off to some faraway land with a cheerful smile, hoping whoever receives it would accept and be delighted; a land i have long been banished from.
you lack hatred while mine is an abundance.
and it freaks me out. to be the center of your attention. to be the other end of your texts and stories and daydreams. to feel lesser than who i actually am. to be thrown down a loop of endless second-guessing. you give me an illusion of self-hatred when i’ve accepted myself and that was maddening. years of progress gone down the drain in mere days.
your love marches forward in a blinding light. i refuse to withstand the force. you nitwit, of course i would turn away the second your shoe crosses the threshold. you gave me a flower once and i threw it to the bin the same night, tearing the notes to pieces, for your affection simply repulsed me. you bought me a delicate cat ornament once and i fought so hard to feign gratitude, unwrapping the plastic stiffly it crinkled and got tangled and i had to wash my hands five times before going to bed. you brought me my medicine in the middle of the night and i thought that was entirely dumb, dumb of you, and i resent you for a whole week but you laughed and smiled and offered me candy, like a kid, we’re both like little kids lost in a playground, together. the only difference is you’re building a castle and i’m scrambling around to get out the sandbox.
what makes you think this time would be different?
the sun has gone down and i see you, from the corner of my eyes, hesitating and thinking and for god’s sake you think so loudly it gnaws on my mind like a loose thread that simply won’t come off.
i should head back i beat you to it, ignoring the flicker of disappointment crossing your eyes.
i’ll drive you i could see your thoughts forming, so i add, before you say anything else, don’t follow me home.
another tiresome tendency you have, that one. persistently accompanying people home. what a nice gesture, in different circumstances and to different people. but not to me. it makes you sound like an intruder. sticking your nose up into problems that aren’t yours to know. to meddle with. to offer a helping hand.
you love me fiercely
and i must hate you something fierce, too.