Broken Doll

Honest to god I wish I could. You’ve treated me like shit in this whole situation. I wish I could forget how gentle and kind and wonderful you’ve been otherwise. Then I could walk away. Then I could forget it and let go.

I know you are really, really screwed up. You want this love and you’re doing your best to sabotage it right out of the gate, and you don’t even see that you’re doing that. I’ve tried to point it out to you, too, and your response is “I do so want this.” Well, hello genius, I know that, since that’s what I said. The part you missed was that you are still getting in your own way even though you want it.

I know damn well that you’ll never be able to stay with anyone — not me, not her, not the next girl or the next — as long as you’re like this.  That should be enough of a reason to walk away.  I really thought that saying those things to you would allow me to give up, to let go, to walk away and let you repeat your mistakes endlessly and be content that it’s not my problem.

And here I am still waiting.  Hoping that while I know you’re not ready to hear these things now, you might remember it later when you are ready.  That somewhere down the line it will all click into place for you.  That you’ll someday remember that you love me, and you’ll let yourself love me, and you’ll love me enough to come back and stay even though feeling that kind of love clearly scares you to death.  I love you, I want you, and I hate that it just won’t let me go.

I hate you.  I love you.  I’ll never get over you.  Fuck you.