The Fault In Our Minds

Fault

Half the ride I'm texting. It annoys me because I wanted to talk to them but I needed to comfort a sobbing family left behind. I apologize for texting so much. They don't seem offended.
Back in my room I lay flat on the bed. Jack comes in and helps me set up. I said I'd live stream at five. That left us ten minutes to prepare and practice.
He turns on the camera. (Which was twice as better than mine) We don't start until we're sure we're live streaming.
"What is your fault?"
I answered, "Being an misanthrope."
"What exactly is that?"
Jack is slightly very professional about it. While practicing he kept pausing or beginning to sweat a lot.
"Being an misanthrope is just hating a lot of things about humanity."
"How did this affect you or anyone around you?" he implies next.
I stab my finger with my nail. "I spent so long hating everything because I was either lonely or angry. Pretty much me being a regular teenager but far more hateful then necessary. Hate comes with suffering and I suffer now more than I will ever suffer before."
"Why is that?"
I reminisce on everything I hated. It gives me a headache I love it so much now. "I never noticed I had a lot of thing to love but could never show it until it was too late. It's painful because I'll spend time away from it and regret the hate I decided to collect up." There's some simple short response questions and I feel this coming to a close.
"Do you have anything else to say?"
I only bow. "Thank you for hearing my fault and sharing yours."
Jack checks the amount of comments. I stare our the window. I don't care about the comments. I watch the sky become beaten and bruised with lovely colors.
I have hated so much I hated myself. I love so much I forget what hating anything or myself feels like. Those faults are all the fire flies I collect, never freeing them. Now that they're free I wonder if this is what it means to feel light as a feather.