A Lesson in Romantics

Sometimes I miss you- I miss you like the grass misses water in the dead of summer, and I miss you like the grass misses the rotting apple you threw at it, though it did nothing wrong. But grass can’t have feelings can it?

And most of the time I hate you- I hate you like the rain when it comes crashing down on my head and drenches me in a layer of wet dog stench that only comes out once I strip to my underwear and stand there freezing as you stare at me and shake your head. I hate you like those raggedy shoes you wore, even when you knew they drove me mad, but you only threw them out once you threw me out; both of us, out of sight.

So, I wonder- I wonder what it’s like to be without fear, without compromise, without feeling inferior to the power you once had over me. I wonder if you even care; if you still think about what you did. I wonder what it’s like to turn an innocent, trusting girl into a hollow shell that refuses love in any way from any man because you lied through your teeth and pierced venom-laced words into her veins.

Sometimes I hope you’re happy- but not happy that you won- I actually do wish happiness for you, while I also hope that once someone teaches you the same lesson you taught me. I hope you feel the anguish and searing pain, and then I hope you can find true happiness and not the kind that resides in the bottom of a glass bottle.