We Learned To Fly, And Kept It A Secret

I'm starting to hate her, and I don't like it. I thought I was past that, bigger than that. I thought surely, with all I've seen and learned, that I was above having the "She broke my heart so now I hate her" Taking Back Sunday attitude. Yesterday was so difficult, but today is the opposite, it's different from anything I've ever known. I'm caring about her less, wanting her to feel pain more. This isn't right. She doesn't deserve that. Even as difficult as the last week has been, the pain was good. It let me carry her with me, let her live inside of me. Now, this anger is replacing the sadness, and that feeling of her inside me is going away. If it disappears, I will be empty, hollow.

It's not right to remember people you love, and feel anger instead. I want her to be sorry, I want to fill her with regret until she bursts. That's no goddamned way to exist.

I dreamed about her last night (I do everynight). In this one, we learned to fly. We discovered a magic inside of us that allowed us to float, to move through the air with more grace and ease than any animal or man-made vehicle ever conceived. We decided to keep the flying a secret, to not let others know. They must never know, they would only be jealous. Then I woke up at 4:30, straight out of this dream, and she wasn't there in the bed next to me. I was so terrified, at that moment, of being alone.