It seems every day,
In some way,
I become more like my father.

I remember telling you I was never gonna be like him.
I remember you telling me that you'd never be like yours.
And I remember thinking
"But your father isn't so bad at all."

I remember that, at the time, I felt ridiculously guilty for thinking that.

I don't feel so bad anymore.

I am becoming more like my father,
Because it feels like I'm constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
That I would keep them.
Because I am constantly breaking promises
To people who were stupid enough to think
I'd always love them.

The reason I am not like my father,
Is because I was stupid too.
It's because I was also stupid enough
To think that I could keep those promises.
I was stupid enough
To think I'd be able to love those people forever.

But, the problem is,
I am horrible at forgiving,
And I'm even worse at forgetting.

I remember one of the promises I made to you.
It was that I would always think fondly of you, no matter what.
Even if we stayed friends.
Even if we drifted apart.
Even if we never ever spoke again.

Today, I remembered how very much I hate you.

And today I also thought, verbatim,
"At least I don't look like an unfortunately pear-shaped crypt keeper like her."

I like to pretend that I didn't start hating you until a little towards the end of last year,
When I started dating the boy I've loved for more than a decade.

I like to try to convince myself of that.
I like to pretend that if that's how it happened, then I can act like I was a good friend, a good person, for a little longer than I was.

But the truth is,
I remember the day I started to hate you.

I remember when one of our mutual friends asked
If I still had a crush on "that guy from fifth grade".
I tried to tell her I didn't,
But that was a lie
And everyone involved in that conversation
Could tell
From how red I was turning.

I remember how deeply she frowned.
I remember her telling me
That you liked him too.

I remember how angry I was.
I remember almost throwing up.
I remember trying to convince myself
That it wasn't true.

I remember asking you.
I was laughing.
I was trying to act like I didn't believe it.

I remember you telling me it was true.
I also remember you telling me that you weren't going to act on it
Because of your "daddy issues" and your "trust issues"
And that even though you liked him a whole lot,
And lots of people had told you that he liked you too,
That you didn't really trust him.
"Besides," I remember how sweetly you smiled when you said this,
"It won't last long. And I kinda like watching him squirm."

You were trying to joke around,
You thought it would make me laugh,
Becquse at that point
I was kind of known for my dark sense of humor
And violent tendencies.

I remember how angry I was at you.
I remember wanting to scream at you.
I remember how hot my tears were.
I remember exactly what I wanted to say.

I wanted to tell you that there was no way you could possibly ever love him the way I did.
I remember wanting to tell you that I didn't care how close you two were, how well you knew him.
That I didn't care if he loved you or whatever.
I wanted to tell you that you could never ever possibly even imagine to care as much as I did.

You were too dishonest.
You were too fake.
You were too normal,
And I wanted to say that there was no way a ******* normal person
Could even fathom possessing
More love than I did.

But all I said to you,
After being too quiet for too long, was
"I have to go."

I remember rushing into the bathroom.
I remember throwing up.
I remembering sobbing on the bathroom floor for thirty minutes,
And when I went back to my class,
My teacher set me to the guidance counselor.
I sat in there for an hour and a half.
I refused to talk the entire time.
She ended up calling my dad,
And telling him that I needed some type of professional therapy
And that I should probably see a psychiatrist too.

What I remember that I didn't tell you,
Or anyone else, for that matter,
Was that I was sure that I would lose this.

Because you were, at this time, prettier than me.
And I was so sure he would fall head over heels for you.
And I remember thinking "How could he not?"
Because you were smart
And confident
And funny
And friendly
And charming
And nice,
And wore normal clothes
Like a normal person
And liked normal things
And had a normal family
And a normal house
And a normal life.

And isn't that all anyone would want?
Someone normal?

Because I sure as hell wasn't normal.
I was morbid
And spazzy
And I only ever wore black
Or dark red
Or dark purple.
And I carried around stuffed animals and dolls
And hid them in my locker or backpack
So people wouldn't think I was a complete basketcase.
And my mother was dying,
And my father was an alcoholic,
And my older brother was violent and angry
And I was the one raising my little brothers
And I always had bruises and cuts and scars
And I would only pretend to eat.
I didn't always have a house to live in
Or a bed to sleep in.
I even slept in the park
Across from the movie theatre
A few times.

And I was so sure,
That if you didn't already,
That you would absolutely love him.
I mean, how could you not?
He's sweet
And handsome
And kind
And smart
And polite
And (usually) gentle
And funny
And compassionate.

Before I had met him,
I didn't realize how drastically a person's eyes change in shade
When they care about someone
And that someone is hurt.

I didn't realize
How powerful a person's voice could be.
How a smile laced between words could make you feel like flying,
Or how being able to actually hear someone out up their walls
From how they're talking to you,
Can make you feel like you're dying.

I quickly learned what it felt like to love someone,
And to lose them,
Without even ever really having them.

Sometimes, I miss you.
Or, I miss who I thought you were.
Who you pretended to be.

I look at him,
And my heart bursts with color.

I think about you using him,
And I am drowning in inky, black rage.

I think about how he loved you,
And it kills me.
If the bravado you put on
Had really been who you were,
There would have been no way
That he would love me.

But that wasn't who you were.

You and I are very similar.
I mean, there has to be a reason he loved you then,
And me now.

Neither of us know how to successfully create bonds between ourselves and other people.
We don't know how to become a part of someone else.

The difference is,
You pretend to.
You create bonds,
So you can use people
To meet the ends
You so desire.

While I,
I tell them how badly it could go.
How I might not ever be able to entirely accept or believe that they love me.

The difference is,
You don't know how to create bonds.
So you make them for the sole purpose of using people
As though they are objects.
As though they are a means to an end.

And while I do not know how to make bonds,
I want to.
I desperately want to.
I don't want to love the people I love from a distance.
I want to love them up-close,
In real-time.

I want to help them.
I want to nurture them.
I want to make them smile.

The difference is,
I admit I'm a monster.
But at least I have a heart.

While you,
You are a monster that is pretending to be a person.