I Don’t Hate You, Not Anymore

I don’t hate you. I know that’s what you want; my hatred is the retribution you need to make it all okay. But I don’t.

It’s hard to hate you because really, I feel bad for you. It must not be easy to push people away constantly, to be someone who sees other people as place-fillers. All of this is only preventing you from realizing that at the root of it all, you’re alone.

It must not be easy to use people and hurt people the way that you do, casting people aside once your fears and insecurities get the best of you.

At the end of the day, the only thing you have is a list of people that you think hate you. You hope and pray that their hate helps them heal and that by recognizing that you’re the bad guy, you don’t have to come to terms with reality: the person you’re truly hurting is yourself.

I feel bad for you because in the end, I won’t let what you did change me. I won’t let the fact that for six months, you paraded around as someone who actually cared about me, opening up to me and making me think I was seeing a side of you that few people knew only to brush me off, change who I am and the way I love.

Don’t let that word scare you; I’ve loved many people, and I’ll continue to love. I loved you because you mattered to me, whether you thought you did or not.

You couldn’t see that.

I don’t hate you. I can’t.

Soon, I will no longer hurt. I will meet someone new, and I will love them the same way I loved you. And maybe I will find someone who loves me with the same passion and veracity that I love them.

And then, none of this will matter.

I’ll still smile when I remember you and I’ll hope for the best for you, because once you love someone, they’ll forever hold a reserved sign in your heart. Even though I’ll want the best for you, I’ll know that your heart is full of all the people you’ve used like pawns in your game. I’ll know that despite your dishonesty, I was always genuine, and my heart holds no guilt; those you’ve tried to destroy will forever weigh you down.

I still wish you luck and happiness and all the things that people deserve, but my wishes are fruitless. At your core, you are not a terrible human and you do not get joy out of hurting people; you’ve simply forgotten how to care.

I can’t hate you when you so clearly hate yourself.