When Love Turns To Anger

I’m angry.

This does not mean that I hate you or that I have stopped loving you, it just means that, just as you have time and time again, I have taken the easier road this time.

I’m choosing to be angry because it’s a hell of a lot easier than having to constantly convince myself that you love me. It’s easier than reminding myself that I deserve better but still settling for less. It’s easier than looking in the past all of the time, searching for that needle of good in a haystack of bad. It’s easier to be angry with you, because for a small moment, my heart forgets how much I truly love you.

I’m angry that whenever you made time for me, I felt like the luckiest girl alive. I’m angry that you made me feel so loved most days. I’m angry for all the sweet voicemails you’d leave me while I was at work. I’m angry that you called me at all. I’m angry because I got so comfortable sleeping next to you that anything else just feels so empty and alone. I’m angry that you left me. I’m angry that came back. I’m angry when you hurt me with your words and then tell me that you love me. I’m angry that you let your mom’s and sisters’ opinions dictate your entire life. I’m angry that you push me away and then pull me back in. I’m angry that you drink. and even though it’s not your fault, I’m angry that you’re an alcoholic. Not because you chose alcohol over me, but because you blame me for ever choosing it in the first place.

I’m angry because I don’t understand you. I’m angry because you don’t understand me.

I’m angry because I’m not really angry at you.

I’m angry because loving you hurts like hell, but I can’t stop loving you.

I’m angry because it’s easier than anything else.