I Hate You

There are so many things I wish I could say to you.  No, I take that back.  There are so many things that I want you to feel.  I want you to feel the pain of finding out the person you love, have loved, is in love with someone else.  I want you to know the humiliation.  I want you to be the one who knows but is afraid to ask.  I want you to be taken for granted.  I want you to know what it is to give everything to me.  I want to be the one who leaves.  I want you to put your babies in the car and drive all over town looking for me.  I want you to cry.  I want you to be sick.  I want you to know what it feels like to tell your kids they’ll have a sibling that is not a part of you.  I want you to feel all these things.  Even if you did, it would never be enough.  I hate you.

4 Responses to “I Hate You”


  1. 1 Penelope June 26, 2008 at 11:04 am

    Oh sweetheart I felt every single word you wrote and I am so sorry you have been through this.
    You know where I am, you know, if ever…
    Big hugs!

  2. 2 Bekki June 26, 2008 at 2:07 pm

    Oh baby. This just makes me want to hold you and never let you go. What Penelope says goes for me too.

    Why can’t the world be filled with women? Why must we allow these men to have emotionless existences? Why is okay for me to know the fears and dreams of my kids but not for him? Why is it okay for me to be mother/father/disciplinarian/taxidriver/provider/wiper/priest/sextherapist/sewer/cleaner
    and all they have to do is be fun? How can they put them in the car with us and NOT think of them every second until they come back? Why can’t I? Why can’t you?

  3. 3 honeywine June 26, 2008 at 3:11 pm

    Don’t you have to have a soul first? I know how much you loved him better than maybe anybody. It really doesn’t seem like it’s been a year. Just try to remember how you felt last year at this time. See how far you’ve come? I’m proud of you for holding it all together, and so much better than I thought you could.

  4. 4 gingermagnolia June 30, 2008 at 9:56 pm

    Thank you, ladies. I really don’t feel like this all the time, it only hits me sometimes. The night I wrote this, I couldn’t sleep and all of a sudden I had a vivid memory of about three days after Douche left. It was about 9 o’clock, boys in their pajamas, and I hadn’t heard from Douche at all. I put the boys in the car and drove all around town looking for him. I just got so angry I couldn’t sleep till I got it all out.


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