For many, many reasons, I hate how this world works; I hate what it accepts, and the evil it rewards. I hate what it neglects, and the beauty it ignores. I hate the bad people that get away with bad things, and the good people that die early. I hate how my family treats each other, how they treated me, and how I don't feel connected with any of them. I hate what people do to animals, I hate stupid movies with stupid plots and stupid loopholes, I hate bad music because people love it and I hate good music because I didn't make it. I hate how good intentions don't mean anything. I hate how succeeding and making money, regardless of how it's acquired, redeems someone morally. I hate traffic.
I'm at the point where I hate how much I hate.
But you were my one... good... thing in this world. This place I could go to listen to things and smile and laugh and create a bubble of my own in this chaos. This person I could just be myself with. No strings attached. No preliminary requirements. No hoops to jump through. You were a sanctuary away from all the bile and poison and spite I was surrounded by with everywhere else. You were my blue-eyed oasis; undeservedly so, but I felt it, so I made it. I felt invincible next to you. We were mental twins. No one could take us down when we teamed up. Nothing could hurt us - except each other.
And now, I can feel the hate bleeding through the fabric. It's warming. The beads of resentment pooling to the surface. And all the darkness and pain and fury and loathing... The demon is pressing against the warping steel bars on the door of the cage, howling for a chance to take over this depression.
And I fight it. Sweet Christ, do I fight it. Every minute of every day, a sizzling spark of a thought flies through my mind, searching for the fuse to ignite. And every minute of every day, I quickly think of a thought from the opposite side of the spectrum to snuff it out.
But it's getting harder. More difficult. And with each day that passes without a word from you, seeing you smiling in pictures, hearing from friends about other guys, hearing from colleagues about your new jobs, feeling you packing up, moving away, and knowing you're going about it all so cavalier and guiltless... the slow realization that you're content with how our last conversation ended... that not only do you not worry about how I'm doing, but you don't care...
If there's anything I've learned because of you it's how powerful regret can be. And I'm doing everything I can to make sure I have nothing to look back on and wish I did differently. But you doing things right now you won't be able to take back. Things I won't be able to forgive. Even down the line. It breaks my heart that you're okay with this.
Holding this anger back is breaking me. Against the advice of everyone - family, friends, teachers, your friends, co-workers, therapists - I refuse to lash out. I won't.
I'm not a monster.
You're just creating one.
But he'll stay on a leash, even if it kills me.
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