the things i hate

May 3, 2007

i hate time.
time is that thing which, standing outside, likes to point and laugh when you look childishly out the window at a summer’s skipping sky.
time that doesn’t change but always changes, can’t be controlled but controls everything.

you think i didn’t mean it?
i meant every word, every crossed t
and dotted i
i meant them all,
that paper and ink letter
the one i pressed into your hands on my doorstep.  
i meant it and i hate that, i hate that i meant it and i hate that i don’t want to mean it, and i hate that you don’t believe me.

i hate falling in love.  i hate it with so much passion – there aren’t words.  i hate falling in love and i hate wanting to fall in love, not because there is anything wrong with it but things would be much safer without, i would be a lot happier in my life if i had never fallen in love.  no regrets, no regrets!  but sometimes it’s hard to live even your own life, when you want so much to be a part of someone else’s.

you want a month, then take it.  take a month, take a year, take thirty, i don’t care.  i will always be here, right here where i am inside of myself.  you can always come back and i will be here and i will give you whatever you ask me to give you, because there is nothing else i can do for you.  i do not know how to love except with everything that i am.  i don’t expect anything from you, i know better than that, i know you will leave here in a week and in a year and forever and you will forget about me and this place and the things we had.  you will forget and someday you will come back and it won’t matter.  it never mattered.  i will still be here.

let go of me.

i wish i didn’t mean that letter.  i wish i didn’t mean this.  i wish i didn’t mean the things i think whenever i look at you, the way i feel whenever i talk to you.  i wish i didn’t, i wish it would go away, i want it to stop because how much easier would that be?  how much?

you think a month will make this better – how can it?  how can a month, a year, a decade?  drama queen, right, i’m exaggerating, i’m making it up, i’m wanting it more than i should.  no, no, NO i’m not!  if i could i would not want it, i would shrug my shoulders and say “his loss” and move on to the next one.

seven months the last time, we were silent, i was still confused and still hurt and still angry but when you came back it didn’t matter.  it hasn’t mattered since the night that we sat in the park together in the dark and i wasn’t afraid to cry in front of you.  do you know,  you’re the only person that i’m not afraid to cry in front of?  the only one.

i hate that.  i hate you for making me love you so much.  goddamn you.  my young woes, my melodrama, my teenage angst…my memory of being pinned up against a streetlight in the snow and kissed breathless.

what do i need?  not a month.  not time.  not to not see you.  i need to not care – but i don’t know how to do that.


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