Resentment


I hate you for doing this to me.

After everything, all you have to do is to dust off your ass and walk away, or while the day away in some corner where you don't see my pain.

I don't have this privilege. I don't get to walk away. I get to feel the pain first-hand. This bloody, gnashing, ripping myself out pain, just because I am me.

And after all that, you're still so insensitive toward my feelings, as if I can forget about it. Pushing my self esteem to way below zero, making me feel more worthless than each day before, by subtly dropping hints that nobody else would ever want me if you leave me. Making me feel as un-special, as common as any other common girl you see on the street. Worthless. Worthless to you.

If I want to, I can have a million other complaints about you. But I don't see the point in posting here anymore. I don't see the point in letting people know that you control my emotions with the corners of your lips. I just don't see the point anymore.

I hate you for letting me rot and fester inside.