2. Rage
Maybe you're out there, maybe you're not. I'm sure you're gloating, either way. But I want to make something extraordinarily clear: I know you for what you truly are. You are the type of person who takes the beauty in others and you twist it and you warp it and you fucking destroy it so those people can't even look in the mirror without feeling such huge amounts of self-loathing for what they've been turned into. You don't know how to love; you know how to use. You don't know how to support, you know how to strip away. You're worse than the drunk who abuses, the drug addict who steals. They have an excuse; where is yours? A religion that enforces a view of women that is sickening? Or just some personal desire to force a situation that is so disgusting it makes my skin crawl?
Loving someone means you want them to be happy. It means wanting what's best for them. You don't love. You covet. You don't care about anyone else's needs but your own. Not hers. Not theirs. Just your own. Everything comes around. Everything.
There are two people in this world who have ever garnered my hatred. One of them for stealing that which was most precious to me; an act so unforgivable and so unfathomable that there could never be an equal amount of pain inflicted for the hole that left in me. The other I have managed to come to an unstable truce with. You make the third. I do not have words to describe the disgust you raise in me; no words to explain how you make my skin crawl. I would label you abuser, rapist; the fact is, neither of those words can completely encompass the sheer amount of suffering you've inflicted on the people who you were charged with loving, caring for, protecting.
I have nothing left to say, save this: I don't need to "curse" you. I've already seen what your future holds. Karma will come back and you will see. When they leave and hurt others as you have hurt them and as they have witnessed you hurt her; when you wake up one day and she's finally broken and simply a shell of the beautiful soul that she is now. When it all comes down and you have no one to look at but yourself? Know that somewhere in the world, I will be smiling.
I hate you in a way I didn't know was possible.
Loving someone means you want them to be happy. It means wanting what's best for them. You don't love. You covet. You don't care about anyone else's needs but your own. Not hers. Not theirs. Just your own. Everything comes around. Everything.
There are two people in this world who have ever garnered my hatred. One of them for stealing that which was most precious to me; an act so unforgivable and so unfathomable that there could never be an equal amount of pain inflicted for the hole that left in me. The other I have managed to come to an unstable truce with. You make the third. I do not have words to describe the disgust you raise in me; no words to explain how you make my skin crawl. I would label you abuser, rapist; the fact is, neither of those words can completely encompass the sheer amount of suffering you've inflicted on the people who you were charged with loving, caring for, protecting.
I have nothing left to say, save this: I don't need to "curse" you. I've already seen what your future holds. Karma will come back and you will see. When they leave and hurt others as you have hurt them and as they have witnessed you hurt her; when you wake up one day and she's finally broken and simply a shell of the beautiful soul that she is now. When it all comes down and you have no one to look at but yourself? Know that somewhere in the world, I will be smiling.
I hate you in a way I didn't know was possible.