I Hate This Post

I hate you. I hate that I hate you, but I do hate you.

I hate the way you’ve treated me. I hate that you made me believe in you and see more good in you than was actually there. I hate that I ever loved you. I hate that you didn’t have enough self-confidence to be honest with me. I hate that I didn’t have enough self-confidence to be honest with you. I hate that things are over between us. I hate that we couldn’t make things better instead of giving up and moving on. I hate that you aren’t the man that I thought you were.

I hate lies and deception and game playing. I hate that so very much. Yet that’s all any of this has been for all the time we’ve known one another. How very sad that is. I hate every lie, every half-truth, every cloaked response, every cover story, every clandestine move, every attempt at misdirection. I hate that all that crept into our relationship not just from you but from me.

I hate most of all that I fucked this up so royally that I cannot ever hope to make it right. I hate that I cannot want the same things you want. I hate that the thought of ever trusting another man feels impossible to me now. I hate me.

I hate hating, but I do hate. Right now I feel hatred more strongly than any other emotion. For now, I hate. Let’s soon move from hate to resignation and acceptance. I know that’s coming. I can almost see it. For now, the effort of putting one foot in front of the other is overwhelming, but I keep doing it, keep plodding along, keep moving because I know that is the only way to get to where I’m going to a brighter place, to a place where I no longer hate, but accept things as they are and move into a better place in life.

It will be damned hard, but I will come through this and come out better on the other side. I will be stronger for all I’ve been through. That which does not kill us makes us stronger. After I come through this I should be stronger than I’ve ever thought possible. I’ll be damned though if I’ll ever trust another man. It will always be hard to believe that a man will want me, that I will be enough for him, that he will truly want to please me. I will not easily believe again that love is enough. No matter how much I loved you I couldn’t make things right for us. No matter how much I tried it wasn’t meant to be. I tried for years. I loved you for years. I loved you so much that it was hard to ever stand up to you when there were things that bothered me. I thought you loved me so much that you would want to make things better if you knew things bothered me. I was wrong. You didn’t want me to be unhappy, but you wanted me to be happy with things just as they were, and I wasn’t. I didn’t want to be in a marriage where the children are yelled at and berated constantly. I didn’t grow up that way, and I have no idea how to deal with it. I didn’t want to be in a marriage where promises were made but not kept, but it happened. Over and over and over it happened, over little things and over big things, promises made and promises broken.

How dare you now make this all my fault? How dare you get up on your high horse and claim righteousness because you are the one that would stay in the marriage forever? How can you be proud of yourself for shutting yourself off to me years ago and only letting me in just a little when you wanted to? How can you think that I would be happy in a situation like that and be willing to continue on? What the fuck is wrong with you that you cannot connect the dots and see that not every fucking thing in this marriage that is wrong is wrong because of me? Why do you have to continue doing more and more things to make me hate you more? Why do you enjoy pushing my buttons so? Do you think that will make me want you? It doesn’t! It makes me hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I’m tired, and I just want it to be over.

Deep breath . . . in . . . out . . . in . . . out . . . in . . . out . . .

Okay, I’m better now. Go about your day in peace. All will be well.