Have you ever been so angry that hitting things felt good? Or so numb that you actually felt high? The past few years have been like that for me. Traveling between fury and indifference with no stops in between.
Some people hate me for it, while others are scared of me. But none of them can hurt me, because I don’t care about anything or anyone.
I love her so much that I hate her. I hate that I can’t let her go. We used to be friends, but I found out that I couldn’t trust her or anyone else.
So I hurt her. I pushed her away.
But I still need her. She centers me, and I can pool all of my anger into her. Engaging, challenging, bullying her–call it what you will–but it’s my food, my air, and the last part of me that feels anything human.
But then she went and screwed everything up. She left. She went to France for a year and came back a different girl.
Now, when I push, she pushes back.