I F**king Hate Him

downloadI saw him again, today. So much for wishful thinking…

Now I know it was just yesterday that I posted about tossing my coin into the sea in hopes of never seeing him again, yet, low & behold, I’m minding my own business, stepped outside for some fresh air when “Boom”. I won’t even bother with details this time because I’m just so over it. At first, it was kinda cute, almost endearing, even. Now, it’s just annoying as fuck.
Immediately, when I saw his face (& even as I writing this post), one side of my lip curled up, I quickly halted and once again, made an about face. I walked in a mist of rain to avoid getting any closer to him. I’m so freaking over this.
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As I was walking back, I had a real nasty feeling. In the midst of playing that brief moment back, I felt my mind say, “I fucking hate him“. I had to catch myself real quick because #1 that’s not even me and #2 that’s a bit much, even for me. Aside from being morally wrong, hating him isn’t going to make me feel better.
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It’s no secret that I, like many people, use anger as a defense mechanism. It’s like I’d rather be mad at you than sad over you, if that makes sense. I feel like, if I’m angry, then I can control that & maybe even make you feel a way, but if I’m sad, then that means that I still care too much. I’ve come to realize that when people say they hate someone, what they really mean is they hate what that person did to them, how they made them feel. And typically, it involves a sense of betrayal by the person that they love (not hate). Saying, “I hate you” comes from a lack of words that express what we really feel, which is hurt. When someone says, “I hate you,” what they’re trying to say is, “You hurt me.” The truth is, they probably actually still love you more than they have the words (or courage) to say. The brighter side is that you can heal from hurt, but hate only deepens the pain.

-TheRealBlackCarrieBradshaw

 

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The Right Thing. The Write Thing.

design desk display eyewear
Photo by energepic.com on Pexels.com

I have no idea why but I’m feeling so anxious right now.

Like, I can’t get still. I can’t get my mind still. I’m physically uncomfortable sitting in this chair, trying to adjust my position, shifting my weight, changing the setting on this heater beside me. My focus is out of focus and the only thing that feels right is to write. Continue reading “The Right Thing. The Write Thing.”