I Don’t Hate You, But I Hate That You Wasted My Time

I hate that I wasted so much time and energy on you, thinking something real would come out of it. You kept me on a string; you strung me along. I was in your clutch for two years.

I don’t hate you, but I hate that I spent so many hours talking to you and thinking of you. I hate that you thought it was okay to waste my time. I hate that I let you. I hate that I let it go on for as long as it did. I hate that I didn’t say no, enough is enough.

Well, I did try to do that many times, but for whatever reason, you kept coming back into my life. You made me think things were going to change and that things would be different. You manipulated me, my kindness, my naivety, and my lack of boundaries. You pushed my buttons, and you knew you were doing it. And now I’m left with time I can’t get back.

I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t. I was out of my mind in love with you for a while. And then, the more you disappointed me, the less interested I became. And of course, it was then that your interest in me piqued. It was toxic and unhealthy. Even though I was no longer interested, your persistent messages got to me. I caved in time and time again. I kept letting you back in. You were interesting to talk to. I was lonely, bored, and single. I wasn’t feeling stable enough yet to date, and you came in and preyed on that instability.

I don’t know if you will ever be capable of understanding the damage you caused me. Maybe one day you’ll see. I don’t know, but I hope so. I would like to think these things have a way of playing themselves out karmically, energetically. I don’t expect an apology, and I would not accept one anyway. Your mistreatment of me was not acceptable. I can forgive, but I cannot forget. Maybe in 20 years you’ll see. Maybe after having a daughter of your own, you’ll see. You’ll see how your toxic masculinity ruined me. How damaging it was to my psyche, and to those around me.

I’ve let you go once and for all. I hope in time you will understand but I won’t hold my breath or count on it.

About the author

Emily Heron