I have cursed you out behind your back and straight to your face. I have blocked your number and put an X next to your name. I have complained about you to anyone who will listen for months now.
The thought of you makes my blood boil. It doesn’t matter how much time we spend apart because the anger is never going to simmer down.
Whenever someone asks, I swear I hate you — and it’s not hyperbole. I actually do hate you. I hate what you put me through. I hate what you turned me into.
I know how unhealthy is is for me to carry around all of this bitterness but it’s easier to stay angry at you than to admit how much you have hurt me.
I would rather scream my lungs out than cry my eyes out. I would rather swear up and down that I hate you than admit I miss you. I would rather dwell on all of the horrible words you said than replay the nice memories.
My anger is a coping mechanism. I need it to survive. I need to keep telling myself what a piece of shit you are because it’s true and because it helps push the sadness away. I shouldn’t be sad about removing someone like you from my life. I shouldn’t be sad about distancing myself from someone dangerous.
Crying over you makes me feel like a complete idiot because you are not someone who is deserving of my tears. Whenever my eyes water, it makes me feel like a child. Like someone who has no idea how the real world works. Feeling any sort of empathy for you makes me sick. It makes me hate myself almost as much as I hate you.
I am tired of seeming soft. I am tired of being the bigger person. I am tired of forgiving you when you are not even sorry. I can’t be the nice one anymore which means my only option is to be the nasty one. The one who says screw you. The one who says I never needed you in the first place.
I lie to myself about how little you mean to me because the truth hurts too much. I wouldn’t be able to handle the weight of it. I need to keep pretending I am happier than ever without you in my world. I need to keep my anger burning because I don’t know if I would survive without it.
It’s so much easier to be angry with you than to cry about you, so you shouldn’t expect a phone call anytime soon. I am not planning on allowing you back in my life. I am planning on ignoring you, ranting about you, finding a way to forget about you.
You hurt me in a way I am having trouble processing. You hurt me too deep to heal. You hurt me and now the only thing you will ever see is my anger because forgiveness is officially off the table.