"I hate you."
That phrase hung there in the bone chilling air.
To me, the weight had lifted.
Or more like I finally heaved the overbearing
luggage, twisting my spine
or finally decided the horse was, in fact, dead.
But I saw the effect in his eyes.
And I feel disgusting for saying that I felt
the light fingertips of happiness for the first time in a while.
To finally awake the slightest remnant of emotion out of him.

"You don't mean that"
It played more as a plea than a statement.

"I do," I laughed.
I laughed out of relief.
Out of embarrassment of allowing abuse in my life
once again. But this time it was not with the strike
of the hand, but of the sharp blades of words
and the blunt impact of neglect.
He then asked, "Then why are you here?"

Laughing through tears,
"Because I have no one else; I'm stuck with you.
I not only destroyed myself but every other
relationship I had with people just so
I could hold your attention.
But I'm not your child and I shouldn't have to beg
when sixteen months ago, you couldn't keep your eyes off me.
But that's not the worst part.
The worst part is that I only want you.
No one else.
And you destroyed any chances of me trusting you."