This is necessarily meant for your eyes.

I have not the slightest idea where to begin my tale.
There are a variety of details I can tell.
Of course, they would be the conventional stories you’ve heard.

I may come off as someone who’s presumptuous and forthright.
However, the truth is no where near that sort of courageous confidence.

What must be said has to be said without hesitation and delay.

I love you.
I’ve made my feelings known to you more than once.
It’s been repeated to your ears like a record playing a vexatious tune.
You hate it.

You are not the only the person to have such an influence on my life.
You are not the only person who has oppressed me more than once.
In fact, my wounds  come from a great deal of your words.

I don’t seek for you to love me as you once have.
I only beg for your friendship.
Is it so impossible?

You have found others to inquire different forms of comfort.
You speak to me, but you do not divulge your troubles or sins.

I do not recognize this beautiful person standing before my eyes.
Visions of you have left me petrified in images of exuberance and anguish.

Our hearts may have become bitter.

I have forgiven you on several occasions.
At most times I want nothing to do with you.
But my heart, my shortsighted heart, reminds me of my love for you.

I do not see you.

You treat me as if I were the plague coming to take your soul…
I’m not here to take away your family’s first born.

You consider yourself admirable and daring.
I find you to be a coward and wretched.

But I still love you.
God help me.

I hate you.
I hate your words, I hate your distance.

I would rather have you in my life as a secluded acquaintance than an enemy.
I love you.

I thought my kindness and offer of companionship would create a new bond for us.
I thought that God would finally provide me with the words to whisper to your cold heart…
“We Love you.”

No, this isn’t what you wanted.
This isn’t what you want.
Your bitter mind and thoughts reminded you of what you’re made of.
Ash, black, darkness, anger, malicious thoughts… You’re hideous.

I still love you.

No, you do not.
You treat me and call me a harlot.
How dare you?
You continue to treat me this way.

The passions we once had,
the love we once created and worked for….
You throw back at my face and it slits my throat.

I am so damaged and disintegrated.
I can’t continue on loving you, forgiving you, accepting you into my life over and over.

I can’t let you go so easily anymore.
The scars always find their way to resurface.
My words mean nothing to you, don’t they?
This will be discarded as nothing to you once more.
You selfish, spineless worm.

I am not a whore.
I am nothing to you.
Words mean nothing.
This was nothing but a repetition of an irritating tune.

I love you, but I don’t recognize this stranger anymore.

written on September 27th 2009.

About gabthechief

22 years old. Detroit native. Bachelor of Arts in Digital Media studies. Street Photographer. Designer. Dreamer. Young soul wandering.

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