I Hate
I hate the first disappointment.
I hate the first time reality hits you and you have to consider life without me. I hate the first time you must think about the fact that you may not be my last and you were certainly not my first. I hate that although I genuinely care for you, your friends will group me with all the men of your past. I hate that someone I may love has to consider if I deserve a spot in their life. I hate that I may add to your stress. I hate that your sister was right about me. I hate that your clique has a justified reason to hate me. I hate that from now on our narrative must be “the girl who ran back to the ain’t shit man.” I hate that although I do right 90% of the time, my 10% hurts you so much that your good memories begin to fade. I hate that I’m no longer the hero of your dreams but instead the antagonist of your reality. I hate that I hurt you but it’d hurt me more to tell you goodbye.
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