Vivre

143

143

I hate you.
Such words. You ignore the power they hold. So you screamed them at the top of your lungs, looking at me. You did it just like I would, two years later, alone in the dark. Alone, because I would know the power of those three little words. For you threw them at me.
We often say that "143" is "I love you". But it has taken a different meaning for me. " I hate you". "So much that I want to kill you", I could add. But I won't, because I don't want to show you I suffer. Was a time that was all I could think about. Because you, among all people, had no right to tell me you hated me. Not after hurting me so much that I questioned my own integrity and the darkest depths of my soul. But I was not the problem. You were. I know that now as I live on my own. I know that your influence was the thing slowing me down, stopping me from being me. From being at all, really.
I don't hate you anymore. But, I can't like you, since you broke every little link I had. All but one. One who never let me down. Who is still by my side today, even when far away. I had cut myself off from all my other friends. I had to start again from scratch with them. I had to rebuild a self I would come to like. One whose trust and self-esteem weren't in pieces to the ground. One who would feel genuinely happy even with a few shadows, and not one who would desperately try to find an ounce of joy in an ocean of darkness. I found it, and now I live. As me, for me.

18/01/2023