Sometimes you’re hurt.

“Don’t give your presence to someone when they’re not affected by your absence.”

One-way street, trying so hard to be a two-way street. Laughter, gifts, high-volume chaos, with a good dash of secrets and D&M sucks you right in. You’re in love again.

And then the absence begins. Their absence.

Why do I submit to this cycle, again and again?
Why do I chase so hard for someone who doesn’t give me the time I deserve?
Why do we do the same dance every few months?              
Why do I swear off you for life, only to be reeled back in by your intoxicating vibrant pull?

It’s the memories. Emotions. The times we’ve shared. The life-changing moments we’ve spent together from our young years all the way through to our recent ones. It continues to link us. It’s all those talks. It’s all that YOU know. It’s all that I know.

We both know, a lot.

This all makes it hurt. In the end I’m hurt, because I’m giving 150% to you. I don’t give of myself so freely, or so easily, like the person who gives you the synopsis of the last 10 years of their life plus the bonus snapshot of their upbringing within a half hour of meeting. I take time. I need to be steeped. I let you in, little by little, the milk that needs to be slowly added to the slowly developing béchamel sauce, or the stock that needs to be poured bit by bit to make that delicious risotto. And despite our varying personalities, my tea and your straight shot of tequila made a perfect blend. Yin and Yang. Peanut Butter and Chocolate.

Disappointment is rife in me. When I give so much of myself, I expect it back. Betrayed. Cheap, like some discounted gardening clippers from the $2 shop. All chopped up and left in a heap.

Should I be upset at you, or my expectation of US?

Should I be upset when you, are just being YOU?

More than anything, I’m upset that I try not to be upset, and yet still find myself mulling over you. Letting you get into my head and torture me there. I try to be flippant, nonchalant, writing you out of my life. But then I hear something, and there you are again, turning those oiled wheels in my mind, over and over.

I don’t want to, but then you make me cry.

I hate you so much right now. But as my feelings are so strong in this, I know really, I don’t.