I hate what you did to me. I hate you for doing it to me. Some days, I hate you more than I love you. I hate the person I have become because of it. I hate that you think its all done and dusted. I hate that you haven’t lived up to all your promises.
I am feeling very hateful today. I don’t actually like that word. I use it in the sense of ‘I hate mushrooms’. But when it comes to people, I just think its too strong. And how can I say I hate the person who I’ve chosen to spend the rest of my life with? Truth be told, I don’t. There are just some days when I am so consumed by my anger that I feel like I do.
Its been over a year and I am not over it. I have more good days than bad ones. I don’t think about it all the time. I’m not consumed by it. But, I am not over it. And that is ok. No-one, except my husband, expects me to be over it. It takes at least two years to get over it. Sometimes more, depending on the damage done and the effort made in the aftermath. Even then, its never going to be forgotten.
Yes, one day I will be over this but today is not that day.