• Hate

    by  • July 18, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Anger • 0 Comments

    You are the one person that makes me this angry. I’ve learned how to control my anger with EVERYONE but you. It’s like you have this button that you can press, and it automatically makes me beyond pissed.

    I absolutely hate that you can do that to me, because I don’t like myself one bit when I’m angry. I hate that when I am really angry I yell at the top of my lungs. I hate that I swear like a sailor, calling you the most offensive things I can think of. I hate that I tell you I hate you and that I want you to die. That I never want to see you again, and I can’t wait until you move out of my house. I hate that when we fight, I can’t even control the words coming out of my mouth. That fighting with you is like an out of body experience. Like I’m watching from above, watching someone else scream these terrible things at this person that I love so dearly. I hate that I cry my eyes out after every single fight. That I can’t help but love you more than anything on this whole planet. I hate that you are one of the most important people in my life, that I care about you more than I care about water polo or school or my friends. I hate that you don’t even care about how I’m feeling. That when we finish a fight you are completely okay and happy again, while I’m left feeling like the scum of the Earth. I hate that you ignore me when I try to talk to you about something that you don’t want to talk about. That I am the younger one, yet I’m the only one acting like an adult, wanting to work things out. I hate that you tell me you don’t like me. “I mean, of course I love you, you’re my sister. But I absolutely don’t like you. How could I?” Those were your exact works. I remember them because they hurt me more than you can ever imagine. Mostly because after, when I was standing there bawling my eyes out you asked, “Why? Do you like me? I don’t see why you would. I don’t see why anyone would.” I hate that you think about yourself so negatively. That you don’t care about your body. I hate that you are cutting your lifespan down 10 years because you keep smoking every time you say you’re going to quit. I hate that when I try to help you quit, it ends in you and I fighting. I hate that you blame me, in part, for mom and dad’s divorce. No, you’ve never actually said it out loud. But I know it’s what you’re thinking. Mom and dad are getting divorced because all the stress me being bipolar and very difficult to deal with put on their marriage when I was younger. And finally it just snapped. I hate that you won’t just tell me how you feel, instead you put in headphones or tell me to leave. I hate that you don’t tell me you love me or want to spend time with me anymore.

    And mostly, I hate that I miss you so much, and you are just in the next room over. Because missing someone who you are standing right beside is the worst pain I will ever feel.

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