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Love In Hate, Hate and Love: A Poetic Just

by Anonymous

We have grown apart so much these past few years. I thought when we split apart at the beginning of the year, a change was going to happen, but it didn’t. We got back together only after three months and basically picked up where we left off. Nothing changed at all. Okay, so you say that incident that happened with, need I not say her name, wasn’t supposed to happen, but maybe she was placed into my path to actually see how much of an ***hole you really are. I felt I got back with you on my terms, but to this day I don’t know why I really did get back with you.

My heart burns to know that the light we once inflamed, together, is disintegrating. My soul empties to feel like, us is just a term abbreviated to lesser standards. Love feels like a relevant term. Just knowing you, I’m afraid to know what real love feels like. I realize that it comes in different “packaging,” but if love comes with your type of “postage,” then I don’t want to feel love. My soul yearns for that young man I once fell in love with, but will never happen. What you and I had a once upon a time was so poetic and just. It almost felt like the greatest love tragedy of all, Romeo and Juliet. You were my Romeo and I was your Juliet. If you ever get the time, I encourage you to read that story. It really does feel like us, from beginning to end.

Is love really tender? I think it’s too rough, too rude, too rowdy, and it pricks like a thorn. You were the type I shunned completely; for the idea of being with someone like you jolted me. “Love is a monster for making me fall in love with my worst enemy.” The love we had was much like lightning which flashes and then disappears before you can say “it’s lightning.” Strands of old tears still stain my cheek from the many promised promises, many given, but never kept, always broken. The sun hasn’t melted away the fog I made with all my sighs. Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder that you were too much acting like you were in love without really knowing what love means. I’ve heard people say that sudden joys have sudden endings. They burn up in victory like fire and gunpowder. When they meet, as in a kiss, they explode. “We should have loved each other in moderation.” I think that was the key to our “long-lasting love.” (Too fast is as bad as too slow).

When someone does the smallest thing to make you angry, you get angry. And when you’re in the mood to get angry, you find something to get angry about. Just the thought of her being alone with you at the home you got to “show me the ‘adult’ in you” weighs on my memory like sins linger in guilty minds. Maybe pain likes to have company and can’t come without bringing more pain. No words can and never will express the true pain I feel inside that night I looked into your eyes and realized…this is the beginning of the end. I feel whatever was left of you, you had given utterly and selfishly to her and I was left with none. All the wounds you cast upon me is being washed out with hot, salty tears…my tears; And, it burns horribly to the depths of my soul. How could you? I thought we said to the end? I guess that was the end. I kept you warm when you were cold. I kept you fed when your stomach drew of hunger. I was once the girl you ran to when there were no one else. Have, or did, you lose sight of that?

You were blinded by your distasteful desires…I spit on your pity. That night, I died. We died. My soul was doomed for banishment from my body. Banishment is death by the wrong name. Calling death banishment is like cutting my head off and smiling with I’m being murdered. You…you played the part of my executioner. Damned souls use the word banishment to describe hell. Maybe we’re just getting a sense of what our hell is to be like in the afterlife. We’re both tainted from our past adversities, of one another’s adversities. Life is the union of soul in body through the miracle of birth, but you would throw all that away. You bring shame to your body, your love, your mind. You have so much natural talent, but like someone who values money-not your body, not your love, not your mind. Your body is just a wax figure, without the honor of a man. The love that you promised me was just a hollow lie. All these troubles have given us stories to tell each other, these despicable stories.

I always hoped that one day you would was me out of the grave you sent me to with your tears. A little bit of grief shows a lot of love. But too much grief makes you look stupid. Every time I was with you, I would gaze into your eyes and just witnessed all this infidelity you had, whether it is with your inability with drugs, your many women, or just outright lies! Our love was like the blissful aroma of a rose. Our love was rose, so beautiful and pure, lovely to the eye, yet horrible to the scent. You say that your “so-called friends” think I’m mean; well, that’s nothing compared to the monster my “so-called” friends came to see that you created.

I loathe you. I carried your child, your only begotten son, in my womb and yet you still deny to this day. You see him, and you see someone else. I’d much rather you’d say nothing at all than someone else. In the sights of my soar eyes, my daughter seems to loathe you, also. She doesn’t know what to make of this sometimes. But yet, when I see my daughter and son having the time of their lives playing with a basket attached with a string, I can’t help but to look over at you and wonder if we’re having the same joys of contentment and happiness. That is where I want to stay ever more; though that is very obsolete.

You say you want the love your parents have, and so I ask you what exactly is that? Could it be the way your dad resents your mom from time to time? Could it be that your dad wasn’t a strong enough man to be the rock for his family? Or could it be that he never truly taught the morals and values of life to his three sons? I ask only what exactly kind of love you would like to bestow? If it involves pain, discomfort, and tension, then blind fold me and push into on-coming traffic because that’s exactly what I feel.

I surrender; you win!! Now what? More pain, more tears…do you care? At all? I’ve lost control and sometimes wonder where I am. What am I doing here? How did I get here? And mostly, why am I still here? I always feel like I’m a nervous wreck when I’m with you; even without. All these mixtures of feelings; is it love? What is love? How does it feel? And ultimately, how does one know if there in love? Love is friendship set on fire, and we sure set this thing a blaze. But as a flame does; it must die out, turns with dust, and eventually gone with the wind.

Oh, my love! How I long for the compassion…the tenderness. I wish I had wings to fly away from here. My children would be that wind taking a brethren upon my feathers as I soar through the sky. And you…you would be my wings, coming…helping to whisk me away as I take that last leap into the air, but my wings have failed me…you have failed me. Why must this untimely humiliation go on? Why couldn’t the world just end three years ago when “our world” was so pure and just? I guess that’s where our enjoyment ended. It was doomed from the beginning, and like all good things, it must come to an end; just like every other story has a sad ending. At least we can say that this roller coaster was invigorating, but still…has to come to an end.

My family is filled with screw-ups and break-ups. Now I can say that we fit right into the “clan.” I had fun while it lasted. We had some times, huh? I’ve realized that after doing my best to hold a grudge—something I’ve never been good at—a peaceful wave washes me away from it, even if a friend did something that feels like absolute treason to me. I wake up feeling compassionate, and ready, finally, perhaps to accept your apology. Still, while forgiving is a good idea, it’ll be quite difficult to forget.

That, my friend, my love, is called wisdom, and it comes with experience. So, as our trials and tribulations come to an understanding, we will know how this experience, we’ve lived together, came to pass; we will always recall this point in our lives as the idea of Love and Hate, Hate in Love: A Poetic Just.

My heart will always remain with you, my friend!!


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