Love/Hate Relationship

I loved you, because I hated you.

I hated everything about you.  I hated your ugly clothes.  I hated you ugly hat.  I hated your ugly necklace.  I hated your ugly laugh.  I hated how you acted like you were the only important one in the room.  I hated how you didn’t care about my friends.  I hated how you didn’t care about me.  I hated how you didn’t care about yourself.  I loved hating you, every inch of you.  I loved seeing you and thanking God that I wasn’t as bad off as you were, no matter how bad I got.

And I hated you, because I loved you.

I didn’t want to have to hate you.  I didn’t want to have to hate every inch of you.  I knew, somewhere inside of you, in a room you forgot to visit for years and years, there was a beautiful soul inside.  I knew that person was still a part of you; that you hadn’t completely forgotten.  Which is why every time I saw you forget who you were, I wept.  I wept that you turned out the way you did, because I loved you too much for it not to hurt.  To see you as that bitter shell of a person destroyed me, and it destroyed me because there was nothing I could do to fix it.  Maybe it was just the way I saw you, or maybe it was actually the way you were, but to me you were a monster: soulless, and irredeemable.

But a miracle happened.  Something I didn’t cause, plan for, or even contemplate.  I saw you smile, when you didn’t know I was looking.  I saw you laugh, when you didn’t think I could hear.  And for the first time in years, I knew that it was real.  I knew that you were still alive.  Maybe you were finally coming out of the darkness, or maybe it was me who’d lived in the shadows all this time, seeing you through clouded glass, but you’re here now, and I’m here now, and it’s real again, like it once was.  It was never perfect before, and it’s still not perfect now, but I never asked for it to be.  I just wanted it to be real.

I just wanted to love you without hating you.

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