I Hated Him Until I Loved Him
My heart was buried in darkness. Pleasurably dwelling in a dark vortex; praising functionality within the dark as powerful, while shaming the ability to accept light as mere weakness. Confusing darkness for clarity, and clarity as blindness. It has become clear as mud to me that I’ve been lying to myself. I’ve been carrying a cross full of lies that my soul can no longer bear. And the eradication of these feelings feel impossible, but I shall crucify myself and expose my secrets before they strip me of my sanity. The only way out of insanity is out. Rightfully so, I’m coming out of the closet.
I’m coming out of the closet, but not empty handed. I’m coming out draped in torn garments that can no longer conceal my wounds and scars. The band aids that once masked the pain have been removed. I poke my wounds to allow my soul to bleed profusely as I attempt to kill what it is that’s stopping me from loving him. The hate entrenched in my heart is far more profound than the love I falsely boast of. My thoughts are cold, while my soul has become numb. Unable to feel the way I once felt about him. Angry that his inability to decide whether he loves me or not is forcing me to expose myself two months after I’ve proposed to my fiance. If only he knew how I felt.
If only he knew that after every visit, I would cry in the shower as he went home to his wife and kids. Crying as I yearned for his touch. Never longed for a male’s kiss but one from him would have been acceptable. Every time he left me, his scent never lingered long enough for me to smell like him. I just wanted to feel the warmth of his embrace, but instead I was left with a cold shoulder. All that I wanted from him, I never received. What I didn’t want, I received abundantly. And that’s his blatant image.
Mirrors tell the truth, but I wish mines didn’t. Undeniably, I was the spitting image of my father. We embodied the same facial features. And although we’ve taken different paths in life, we even walked the same. Our mannerisms defied the whole nature vs nurture argument. Unfortunately, the man I tried the most to disconnect myself from is the one I may be the most connected to. As a result, I hated him until I had no choice but to love him. To hate him, was to hate myself. They say misery loves company, and quite frankly I don’t have any intentions to start a business with anyone miserable.
In my sadness, I wanted a hug. My ambitious hate convinced me it could never be okay between him and I until he apologized. Until he made up for lost time. Until he proved he loved me. And that was until I realized that the key to happiness and love lied in my hands.
It is in the understanding of this concept that we hate until we love. And when we love, we find freedom, and in freedom there is light. To stand by idly waiting for someone’s else actions to dictate your happiness leaves you in a bondage the other party doesn’t even have the handcuffs to. Free yourself. For in the end, you will realize it is foolish to hate forever, when loving is much easier.
