Admission.

You sat down stubbornly in the snow and said you weren’t going anywhere. I stared at you while you weren’t looking, deciding that, if I could paint, this is how I would paint you. Sitting in the snow, that determined and slightly pissed off look on your face, looking away from me and just waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

I asked you what you wanted. You said you wanted me to love myself. That the love you had for me wouldn’t stick if I didn’t.

I asked what you wanted me to say. You told me you wanted to hear the battle going on in my head right now.

But do you really? Is that what you want to hear? Because I don’t think you actually want to know.

You see, I can’t imagine you actually want to know that, no, I do not love myself. No, that’s not something I can give you. No. Actually, I hate myself. I can look myself in the mirror and, without batting an eye, remind myself of that hatred. I am a horrible person. In fact, I am the worst possible person imaginable.

And the most striking thing about all of that? I don’t care. I don’t care! I don’t care that I hate myself! I don’t mind my view of myself! You know why? Because I deserve it. I deserve to be hated. I have nothing good to offer this world. I will never be enough for the people I care about. No one should have to deal with me. I am the worst of the worst and I deserve to be hated. If someone can’t see that or likes me despite that fact, then they don’t know me. Because no one who knew me would actually like me.

We walked away and I still hadn’t said anything. I tried to explain I felt like I was between a rock and a hard place and, no matter if I spoke or not, I’d make you mad or sad.

I didn’t say this but, I’d already made you both after all.

We walked away and I still hadn’t said anything. I could hear defeat in your silence and see it in the way you moved.

I almost begged you: “Please say something – I’m so scared.” But I keep my mouth shut.

I apologized (“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this.”) and watched you shiver in the cold.

We walked away and I still hadn’t said anything.

-Melissa

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