A text I want to send to Butterfly
I woke up this morning, and my first thoughts were of you, as they always are and always were. I was thinking about you, wondering how you are, wondering if you missed me, wondering how you were coping with our breakup--the same way I have every morning for nearly three weeks. It's automatic. So automatic that I momentarily forgot all about the exchange we had Monday night.
Monday night was the very first time ever in our history I was completely overwhelmed by anger and hurt and resentment instead of the deep love I've long had for you for the past six years.
And I hate it. And I hate you.
I hate you for throwing my love away, for throwing my life away. I hate you for taking my love and giving back very little in return, and making me constantly beg for what little you did manage to squeeze out of your heart of stone.
I hate you for robbing me of all those years of my life, years I could have put to far more productive use than catering to you and supporting you, especially in the current light of just low little it seems to actually have been appreciated.
And I resent you deeply because I feel this way, because I feel such incredible pain, I feel used and abandoned and completely, utterly betrayed, particularly considering that I once did love you so very deeply--with every part of me.
I hope you're able to forgive yourself someday--that is, if you are even capable of feeling that there's anything to forgive yourself for. If you're even capable of feeling -anything.-
I know that I certainly cannot forgive you for shattering me so. Maybe, someday, I might be able to.
But not today. Not for a long time.