Monday, November 10, 2003
Ahhhhhhh
I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you’re always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you’re not around,
and the fact that you didn’t call.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
not even close…
not even a little bit…
not even at all.
Why do I continue to do this to myself? I try to apologize for not being what he needs, and I know going into this ordeal that if I try to bring it up, knowing I already feel bad about it, all he's going to do is make me feel worse. Somehow, this doesn't stop me. So I apologize and all he can say is "it doesn't matter" over and over. That's the worst. Because it does matter. And I end up crying about it. I want to run up to him and scream because he doesn't see how much he's hurting me, or at least he doesn't care.
And as much as I bitch about this now, we all know as well as I do that I'll be going back. I always go back. And I always will go back.... this only sucks for the moment. This only looks like something terminal. I love him too much to ever leave. Damn you for being worth it, and damn me for knowing it.
12:45 AM
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