Why I Hate You

I hate you because. . .

You didn’t buy me flowers. I used to hope each Valentine’s day that you’ll surprise me with a bouquet of pink roses, you never did. But, you gave me that carved soap flower. You gave me the kind that never dies.

You didn’t buy me huggable stuff toys. Instead, you gave me you. Cuddling with you has always been my favorite. If I close my eyes now, I would still remember lying across your chest, listening to the beat of your heart while you stroke my hair with your gentle hands.

You didn’t bring me to a fancy restaurant. We didn’t need to, you’ve got the cooking skills of a pro. Just staying at your place wearing jeans and shirt with movies and good food is way better than dressing up and dining out.

You didn’t buy me chocolates. You didn’t have to. You made poemsΒ sweeter than chocolates. Sweets that turned bitter, words that sticks even when I try to spit them out of my mouth.

You didn’t have a car to drive me around. Being with you was a hell of a roller coaster ride.

You didn’t bring me to a Taylor Swift concert. You composed songs and sang them to me.

You never read me a book. You wrote our story and made a short film out of it dedicated only to me.

You didn’t say I’m beautiful. You made me feel beautiful.

You always fail to text me. But you never fail to tell me that you love me. Always have and always will.

You play a lot of musical instruments. And then you had my heart and played it to the beat.

You never leave me little surprise notes. You left a huge hole in my heart that, time, however long it might be, can never fully heal.

…and that is Why I hateΒ You.

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Old habits die hard. Old love die harder.

There was a time when I enjoyed the feeling of being associated with you, when other people mentioned you and my face would immediately appear on their minds or they would mention me then immediately think of you. It just felt like it has always been like that, you and me me and you. Unfortunately for these people, there’s no us anymore which leads to the updated fact that you and me are totally different and separate living subjects.

I am in the kind of state that I never thought would be possible to me, but here I am not wanting to be in a relationship. Ever. It’s not because of you, okay maybe partly because of you but not because I am still madly deeply in love with you. I simply don’t wanna be into something that’s not gonna last, simply don’t wanna be with someone who can’t afford to give me what I can willingly give. I always knew what I wanted before which is the exact opposite of what I want now. You know those kind of people who plans things ahead, even the smallest details? And when things don’t happen the way they planned it there’s a huge possibility they’d go mad? Yes, I am one of them. Almost gone mad, but didn’t tho. I understand that I am still in the phase of healing from my past (and take note,first) relationship but who said I’m not allowed to entertain guys just for my own amusement, to pass the time and boredom? The hell with you people! I.AM.SINGLE. and a pretty smartass one at that (LOL). Let me clear things up, entertaining doesn’t mean commitment, it just meant having a good company that’s actually allowed when you’re on your 20s. Besides, I shouldn’t be guilty because we’re over and you even had a girlfriend after me, maybe even girlfriends. There shouldn’t be a problem, but just like in movies, books, and more particularly in life, there always is.

I didn’t expect these guys to pay attention to me, they just never seemed to be on the same page as I am, even as I was going out with my ex boyfriend before. I knew some of them because we went to the same high school, some of them, I knew because they’re acquainted with my ex and they were just there the whole time we were together and now they’re talking directly to me, asking me how’s life, you know ordinary greetings from people, then here comes the part of conversation I started to dread the most when I learned the particular pattern. After they ask how I’ve been and announce that they haven’t heard from me for a long time they would ask me if they could ask me a question, which is so lame because they’re already asking but even though I already know what’s next (and they know it too) I always get this twisted feeling in my stomach, like a hurricane is about to blow in my face that I ought to run away from, but I don’t. Instead I answer the usual way I know, pretending to be as innocent as I can be, “sure. Is it about my lipstick?” these guys would say hahaha and proceed to their mere purpose, asking if I’ve broken up with you or if we really are over or in any possible way they could construct a sentence with you and me in it. Then some who are brave enough would mention your name, and misspell it and I would correct them that your name’s without aΒ h and then they would apologize and blah blah. Look, it’s not about the spelling of your name, obviously. I hate the way they say it, like I’m an object and I was previously owned by you! I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I am not anybody’s. I am myself. I wish I could wash it out from other people’s mouth when they say it, like I’m somehow your property and they’re scared that if they try to just even talk to me they’d get in trouble.

Never did I thought that I’d say this, but I wish they’ll see me as I am, that might sound cheesy but I am dead serious. I wish they would somehow forget that once upon a time, there was us. I don’t wanna be your shadow anymore, I don’t wanna be a ghost from that relationship. I never wanted to be the girl behind you, I’ve always wanted to be my own person and that somehow has been the problem. You’ve always blamed me everytime a person would be able to look through me as I am, you wanted me just for yourself but I knew deep inside I tend not to be invisible. For now, I am trying to remember the light that could help me see for myself who I really am and what it is I really want, maybe through that people wouldn’t have to think about you when they think of me. Annoying and selfish, loving and dramatic as I can be, they’ll just see me.

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