Hate to need you.

I'm torn. Right. Wrong. Tearing. What you want and what you need doesn't always match up. What I want is to go on down the road I've been on. Hold my breath, close my eyes and keep on walking, never looking back. Do what's healthy for me in the long run. But what I need is to breathe. Red hot scorching air, I don't give a damn.

I need him. I'm furious about it, and part of me hates him. Another part is deeply wounded, and wants him to see every inch of the pain. But the last part, treacherous fucker as it is, loves him. Irrevocably deep. I'm at constant war with myself. And I can go through all 3 parts within one second. Wanting to strangle him, make him feel ashamed, and never let go of him, all at the same time. I hate it. Especially the part who wants to make him feel better. Cause I can't stand that. No matter how deeply he hurt me. But I should be glad he's feeling like crap, shouldn't I? I'm in my right to do so. Fucking whirlwind in there.

I want to be the selfish one. I want to have him around, for me. Because I need him. I'm not sure I can, though. I want to be the one with the upper hand. I want him to know how much good he threw away. To remember that every day. I want his tears, and I want to be the one to wipe them away. Tears are honest. I want to be able to hit him. To express my anger when it's too much. To hold him. For no reason and every reason. Just because.