Caricamento in corso...

From A Million Hearts, A Womans Resentment

I resent the small amount of value you have for me and I resent that i’m not saying that with suspicion.
I resent your willingness to confirm that so unthoughtfully with what you do and don’t do.
I resent your total lack of effort to be a better partner and your willingness to let me accept less than I deserve because its easier.
I resent being so easy about everything, just doing what needs to be done and not expecting too much, hoping you would, out of love for me, act right.
I resent the fact that you don’t remember who walked with you through fire again and again to my own detriment and now that there are only ashes, I am just something you have to deal with.
I resent that you would rather have not known me or taken anything from me rather than be “obligated” to treat me like I have value.
I resent that I showed you my heart and you smashed it, carelessly using your ego to discredit my feelings.
I resent that it would be good enough for you to discredit my feelings and leave it at that, regardless of how I feel.
I resent that seeing me cry does nothing to your heart.
I resent being treated like a man in a woman’s body.
I resent that you don’t think about how you make me feel, leaving me alone when i’m sick.
I resent having to tell you over and over why i’m hurt and you don’t care enough to remember.
I resent the smug analytical responses I get.
I resent your sorrys so I shut up and the million missed opportunities to show me love and that I have value to you.
I resent your cop outs and lazy attitude.
I resent your not recognizing how hard I try, conforming to your beliefs, changing my mind and my life.
I resent that you know me a tenth of how I know you and that I wasn’t important enough to know.
I resent being treated like a roommate and not a wife.
I resent my body being more valuable than my heart.
I resent being in a place in my life again that brings me down and makes me feel worthless.
I resent the times you have told me you love me because I was dumb enough to believe you.
I resent feeling humiliated when I have to remind you its Valentines day, an anniversary, my birthday and you’ve made no thought or effort to do anything.
I resent that thinking of me is a task.
I resent that i’m not the one person in the world that you go the extra mile for like I do for you.
I resent your willingness to accept it because its easier.

Altre opere di Ella...



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