Despite popular belief, I am not a man hater. I do not hate all men. Repeat: do.not.hate.
Of course, there are a few of you out there (actually, just 2) who I am really not happy with and not even prepared to deal with.
"There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark
Finally, I can see you crystal clear
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your sheet bare.
See how I'll leave with every piece of you
Don't underestimate the things that I will do
The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all."
So I write... because it's therapeutic.
I don't know. I feel such a strange mix of emotions. Today I blocked you from my Facebook page and the resulting feelings were surprising. I thought that merely relief would flow through me, but I feel more. I feel the sting of what could have been. I know in my head (and a piece of my heart) that I'm making the right decision, but it doesn't make your rejection any easier. The most spontaneous I've ever been-- I risked everything to come and see you. You made me feel secure in that decision. You comforted me and made me feel safe, and I'm grateful for that. But I left and I was discarded, like nothing ever was, like you never felt anything. I regret so much opening up to you... in so many ways. Should you ever wish to talk about it, I may shut down. Don't expect anything more from me. You had your chance on something incredible, but you let it slip away. You chose this, you made a conscious decision.
But what leaves me hating myself is that had you actually pursued/loved/liked/wanted me, I would have broken your heart in an instant. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. It's confusing to me that I don't feel or ache at all for you, but I want you to like me so much. That's so unfair of me.
I guess it is just human nature to want to be liked.