I Hate You, Don't Leave Me

I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me

I understand it now, why hurricanes are named after people. You blew into my life, a whirlwind of epic proportions. And in the middle of it all, when I am wrapped up in your arms on otherwise lonely nights, it is calm. It is quiet. I am in the eye of the storm. I didn’t see what you were doing to my life around me, or maybe I just didn’t care. Because now that my eyes are wide open, I still need you to stay. I hate you for that. I need you because of it.

We all have different reasons for forgetting how to breathe. You are my oxygen while stealing my breath away. Your smile can light up my day. I’m burning up inside. Your arms around me are suffocating; a cage of love and warmth. I don’t want this, I don’t want you. It’s too much. I need space, I need to be alone for a while. Get out. But please don’t leave.

You’re in my doorway, confused, one foot out in the hall, one inside my apartment. I feel like that a lot. Split between two places in my heart, between two desires. I don’t think I love you, actually, I know I don’t. Yet I feel the urge to beg you to please not go. But what is there left to say? We share a look. You know. You step back inside and close the door. You’re on the side of that door that I need you on; you’re on the wrong side.

No matter how many boys I kiss on nights I don’t want to remember, I will taste you in all of them. I’ve been trying to get you out of my mouth; last night I brushed my teeth until my gums were bleeding. When you slid into bed next to me late that night, I knew you could taste the blood in my kiss. You looked at me for a moment too long to just be loving. Your eyes said that you’re sorry, your eyes made promises I don’t want you to keep, your eyes told me what I wish you could speak into the night. Instead, you said ‘I love you’. We fell asleep apart, a foot or two between us. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.

Put together, yet occasionally a hot mess – a 20 something writer.