I wish I could tell you I hate you.

I wish I could tell you I hate you. I wish I could tell you that I don’t understand why you’d hurt me. But I’ll never get the chance. Because everything’s already happened. They say hindsight is 20/20 and I should have known. I should have seen it in the way you always left. The way you stopped calling. The way you stopped looking at me the same way. My heart was already breaking then. I just didn’t know it. I didn’t want to believe it. But I don’t actually think I hate you. I hate everything you did to me. I hate everything I let you do.

I wish I had left just the littlest bit earlier. When I finally saw the warning signs. Not 2 weeks after when you already had done the damage and I was “ready to leave”. Not after the big fight where we both cried. The one where we hugged and I apologised, but you said nothing. Not after the betrayal that still clings to me like a leech and I will have to live with forever. The betrayal that makes pain sit forever in the middle of my chest. Sadness in the bottom of my heart. And grief in the pit of my stomach. If I had just listened to my body and the warning signs it was screaming at me, I would have left with 50% as much hurt. That’s always better than 100% of it.

No. I actually wish I could have taken a pause every time you talked to me. Instead of just believing you because I thought you’d alway tell the truth, I could analyse every sentence you said. Every feeling you gave me and every action you took. It could have been a giant button like from Staples. One I can just hit when I feel like something’s off and give myself 15 minutes to just sit. Stare at you. Suss out if it’s just me? Is it just my anxiety? Or is it actually you? Is it us? We aren’t good for each other. And you really aren’t good for me. If I knew that, I would have left after the first 2 weeks. That was easy. I would have noticed the inconsistencies more clearly, faster, sooner. That was easy. And been able to digest them like a sweet aperitif. It could have literally been that easy. Is that it though? Is that what I really want?

No. I wish I could have asked you why? A 3 letter word that feels so simple, but sits heavy on my tongue. I’ll never ask you. You’ll never answer me. We’ll never speak a word to each other again. Not this short sweet word that could give me the peace that I want so badly. That you could give me. If you just let me say it. Why? Let me scream it in your face. Why? Why did you do this? Why did you say so many lies? Why did you pretend to be the person I wanted? Why did you choose me? Why did you choose me? Why did you choose me? Why?

No. I wish I had never met you because the minute I saw your face, I knew I would love it. I knew I would love your laugh. Your smile. Your silly stories. Your faults. Your mistakes. Your wins. Your losses. I knew I would love you.

What I really wish is that I would have stayed home that day because then I would have never met you. I would have never loved you. I would have never forgiven you.

And if I’m being honest. I do forgive you even though I can never forget.