I don’t want you here.
You know that dog, the one that whenever you go over to your friend’s house for dinner, comes running up and humps your leg? That pushing, intruding cur that forces his attentions on you constantly, and because it’s your friend’s “sweet poochie-woochie” you have to grit your teeth and smile?
I don’t like that dog. I don’t like you for the same reasons.
You’ve managed to destroy and disintergrate everything I wanted or enjoyed about this existence. Anything I wanted or that made me happy, you pounced on, soiled and cheapened, and then held it up to show everyone “how good” you are to me. You’ve fucked up my life in ways too numerous to count. When you leave, that person that I used to be creeps back out and shines, and I love that feeling. I like her. Hell, everyone likes her.
I want to lie in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and having a conversation that actually has- get this- depth and debate, with someone who isn’t you. I want to be able to grab someone’s hand and drag them off into a dark corner. I want… things that are a insubstantial as soap bubbles and prayers, now. I suppose I should thank you for that.
I want to go through my daily routine without having you bitching and grating on about shit you know nothing about. Everytime you grope me, my skin crawls and my stomach turns. Contrary to the legend you are in your own mind- you are not Casanova. That would be why I shamelessly took a lover, why I am considering taking another, and why, if it weren’t for you, I would belong to someone else right now, body and soul.
I hate you, and if I could, I would leave you in a cloud of dust, and run as far and fast as four wheels and Detroit steel could take me. I would give up everything, disappear from sight, lose everyone I care about, if it would give me half a chance of getting the fuck out of this black hole you call “love.”
And if it was only me, I would.
You wanted to know how I feel about you being here every other day. You were so very excited and happy with yourself for this clever way of being “on the road” without actually going the fuck away. You wanted me to shower you with praise. Well, consider yourself showered. Now you know what I think.
Bitter on December 14th 2007 in Hate