I don’t hate you. I really don’t
But I don’t even know what to say anymore.
I go around running thousands of scenarios in my head: encounters, conversations, glances. Seeing you again. You looking at me. Me pretending I’m fine.
Nervousness. Stress. Pain. Excitement. Wanting. Fear. All at once.
Sometimes I think of you walking without a word. Sometimes I imagine you smiling. Sometimes I see myself smiling back. Sometimes I even think I don’t care.
That one never feels convincing.
Some people say I’m crazy. Others call me stupid. Some tell me to move on.
I know. I’ve heard them all. I still do.
Move on. Have some dignity. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Time heals everything. And I know.
That’s the problem. I know.
But hearing, listening and doing are three different things.
There is what I want. There is what I should. There is what I must. And then there is what I can’t.
All at once.
I know life goes on. I know one day I will be ok.
I know.
So why am I still clinging to you?
Please. Can somebody explain it to me?
I’ve made lists of what was wrong. Arguments. Disappointments. So many reasons why this doesn’t work.
I know you’re not perfect. You’re not the most beautiful woman in the world. You’re not good for me.
You hurt me and I hurt you. We were not a perfect love story. I know all of that.
And still… Your laugh fills my room. Your voice fits my ears. And your absence kills me every day.
Explain that.
Please. Because I can’t.
I don’t want you back. I really don’t.
And at the same time, I dream of you coming back.
I don’t know how to explain.
I don’t want the arguments. I don’t want uncertainty. I don’t want to wonder if tomorrow you’ll be gone. I don’t want to fight for something that keeps hurting both of us.
I don’t want to beg. I don’t want to chase. I don’t want to convince anyone to love me.
I don’t want any of that.
But I want you back.
Fuck. There. I said it.
I don’t want you.
But I want you. How can both things be true?
Seeing your name is enough. That’s all it takes. One name on a screen.
My body reacts before my brain gets a vote. My heart starts beating differently. My stomach tightens. For one stupid second, everything wakes up.
Even if the message says go away.
Imagine that.
You tell me to go away and some pathetic part of me is simply happy that you spoke to me.
Happy to hear your voice. Happy to see your angry eyes. Happy because for a few seconds I exist in your world again.
How fucking sad is that?
And trust me, I don’t want you back.
But I do.
Seeing your name awakened all the demons I thought were gone. All the ghosts I believed I’d buried.
It seems the grave was not that deep.
We’ve been here before. I’ve been kicked out. Blocked. Ghosted. Exiled.
And somehow I always made my comeback. Maybe that’s part of the problem.
Maybe some stupid part of me still believes there is always another chapter because there always was before.
Another conversation. Another chance. Another maybe.
But this time is different.
This time I don’t want to.
I don’t want to knock again. I don’t want to find another way in.
I’m tired.
And still, when I think of that wall, I run to it.
Why?
Why do I want what hurts?
I understand everything and accept nothing. I know the truth and still hate it.
I can know that going back would be a mistake and still dream about it.
You can love someone and know you shouldn’t be together.
Maybe that’s why it hurts so much.
Because there isn’t one truth. There are two.
I want you.
I don’t want you.
I miss you.
I don’t want to miss you.
I want to see you.
I’m terrified of seeing you.
I want you to call.
I know you shouldn’t.
I want to forget you.
I don’t want to forget anything.
I can’t.
Not yet.
So please, people, stop telling me what I already know.
I know I should let go. I know love isn’t supposed to hurt.
But knowing isn’t feeling.
And the heart doesn’t care about what you know.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll be stronger. Maybe one day I’ll see your name and feel nothing. Maybe I’ll hear your voice and it will just be a voice.
Maybe I’ll see those angry eyes and won’t smile. Maybe one day I will not care.
Maybe.
But today?
Today you could tell me to go away and I’d still be happy you spoke to me.
And I hate that. I hate how little it takes. I hate that I know better.
The worst part? That changes nothing.
And no.
I don’t hate you.
That’s probably the problem.
I don’t want you back. I really don’t.
Please believe me.
Because I’m trying very hard to believe it too.
And at the same time…
I want you back.
