As we lie together on my bed, after hours of abuse we for some reason continue to call “Making Love”, I can’t help but think how much I hate you. The way you make me scream, with pleasure, with pain. I can’t stand it. The way you make me feel, a nervous bubble inside my stomach that flutters when I see you. But even now, when all we do is scream and fight and fuck, I can’t get enough. You’re like a drug, no good for me and yet I want more.I keep telling myself I have to go cold turkey and think you feel the same way. That’s why you left me. Why I told you to go and I don’t regret it. I don’t have to listen to my housemates complaining about the noise anymore. Don’t have to put up with you hitting and kicking me in your sleep while you push me out of my own bed.

I don’t want you anymore.
I don’t miss you.
Only… when I stop to think about it…
I hate everything about you.
You hate everything about me.
Why do I love you?

I love you Baby. Come back soon.