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Description
Lost.

Anger.

The first that comes. My ancient way of coping. I don’t know what to do. Attacking instead of defending. Saying everything that hurts to hide my own hurt. I don’t know what to do. Saying things I thought once a year. Saying things that will cut deep. Most are true, many are things other people have said, not me.

Realization.

I’m fucking broken. Stupid. I love her. I love her so much. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I stop? Why can’t I shut my fucking face? Why can’t I stop my mouth and stop my brain and stop myself? She’s the same as me, broken on the inside so anger comes out first. We’re too similar to back down. We don’t think even though we say we do. Why are we stuck like this?

Memory.

She burned his things. She wanted to forget so she burned them. She’s going to do the same to mine. I can see the dried roses and origami roses and the birthday letter and the pictures. All of the pictures crumpling up in the fire. The thought hurts more than anything else. I will become a number.

Depression.

I will be number 6. Not even number 7. I will be talked about like the others. Her entire family will hate me, everybody we know will see me as the monster. I will be laughed at. I will be those stories of small penises and cheating and arrogance and abuse. She will hate me more than anything else.

Anger.

She doesn’t even bother to look at herself in the mirror. Who the fuck does she think she is? She judges everyone around her. Discards her friends when they become awkward or inconvenient or annoying. It’s not fair.

Hurt.

She cried twice. In the entire time we fought over the last month she only cried twice. That’s how I knew she had lied about only thinking about it that one Sunday. My head hammered my heart again and again. She stopped loving me. She started to hate me. I was a pathetic hindrance to her. I still love her and she’d rather erase me like Tyson.

Memory.

His family called her rose. Her family always looked at me as if I was just the next in line. Her mom always trying to justify the knowledge she shared. Her aunt always treating me as an accessory. Her stepdad aloof. I hated being given money. I felt like it was some sort of trap. I needed it, but I hated it. I couldn’t refuse.

Anger.

I told her it was her dad who she learned the power of money from. What about the rest? What could I do? Refuse the money and damn myself in their eyes? Accepting was the only choice. Every time the same song and dance. We would refuse politely the first time. It was unconditional. Refusal was never an option. She would tell me how they would ask her if I didn’t cash the cheques. I wanted to help her family because I loved her and wanted to show her family I wasn’t like the others. But I felt like I was being paid to do it. I was always indebted to Megan or her kin. We were never equal. It was the double standard of being poor and yet being proud. I never knew if she was helping me to keep power in the relationship or because she was annoyed at my finance worries or because I simply couldn’t do it without her. My family never did things like that.

Realization.

She hated my mother. They were too similar. She always talked about her as if she was wholly self-absorbed, didn’t actually care about me and just wanted self-gratification. My dad helped her get her class 4 and yet she still doubted them because of my mother. She never stopped talking about her career.

Self-Pity.

My dad helped her with the class 4. I can’t count all the times she came over in that first year and I quizzed her on all the things she needed to know for her program. The times I sat there and asked her question after question for hours to help her study. She always talked about how her career mattered more than me in those final days. Would she even have the career without my help? She failed the program once, was it me and my family’s help that gave her that extra push?

Doubt.

She always talked down to me. Always told me about how my experience meant nothing. My ‘One Nursing Course’ was useless compared to her program. Complete and utter disdain and disregard for my knowledge.

Frustration.

Math. That’s what matters. I never bothered to do it because I knew she wouldn’t care. Her entire program is only 753 hours of instruction. My ONE course was 192 hours of instruction on Anatomy and Biology at a level far beyond hers. How the fuck can she say I know nothing? My single course was a quarter the size of her ENTIRE program. And I took numerous First Aid courses. I’ve seen a man crushed to death by a falling tree, I’ve done self-surgery so many times to reduce scarring or fix problems I can’t even count them. Honestly how the fuck can she expect to treat all of that as if it’s nothing?

Disgust.

It doesn’t matter. She never cared about how much you knew. You only learn to hide your hatred of yourself. You think that knowledge is a gift. Who the fuck else thinks that, you stupid asshole? The world is made up of people who judge first and question later. Why would anybody care what you know? How could you honestly expect her to give a shit about that when you treat knowledge like she does debt? A means to control, and nothing more, you hideous excuse for a human.

Self Loathing.

Why not just kill yourself to save the world some time? Everything everybody says about you is a lie. You pretend to be humble when in actuality you hate everything about yourself anyways. But that’s right, isn’t it? Your biggest flaw isn’t your pride, it’s your cowardice that you try to hide from everybody. You’d kill yourself if you weren’t such a fucking yellow-bellied piece of shit. You can’t even stand up for yourself and say what you feel because you’re afraid of losing her. CORRECTION, YOU ALREADY LOST HER.

Despair.

I love her so much and she hates me. She didn’t just break up with me, she removed me from her existence. She blocked you from absolutely every single possible way so you could ever talk to her again. I expected her to just end the relationship and be done with it, but you fucked everything up so bad that she wanted to erase you from her life.

Hate.

Just die. This woman was supposed to love you and she doesn’t want to even see your name. Who the fuck even cares? You could die and MAYBE your parents would be sad for a day. Your brothers wouldn’t care, Bobby would quickly forget you, Nick would forget you, and nobody would even blink. You’d just be an obituary that nobody bothers to read. Oh that’s right, complete coward right?

Outwards Hate.

You keep telling yourself you’re made of metal, that your flaws are strengths. But she never understood you anyways. How could she ever figure out that you wanted to be something else? She scoffed at your ex for wanting to be some animal, but never understood that you wanted to be perfect. You told her once and you cried and she just had sex with you as if your admission of weakness was sexy or some shit. You wanted to be pure logic. You wanted to never have to deal with the bullshit of emotion or romance. You failed by loving her, but she never even came close to understanding you in return.

Grandiosity.

You were supposed to be the perfect humanist, some godlike figure who was the perfect hybrid of intelligence, memory and physical form. You were supposed to be the savior who would help teens find out what they really wanted from life and show them how they could help others. Who are you now?

Failure.

But here you are, pining over a girl who hates your guts. She’s hated your guts for a while and you know it. You pretend to not care, to be angry and righteous, but you’re just a hurt little boy just like last time. Every relationship you get into, you fuck up when it gets serious. She said you blackmailed her into a relationship, so honestly what the fuck did you expect? She said that right after you brought her father into it. That was the final straw. She wanted to hurt you as badly as you hurt her. How could she love a person who did that anyways? This entire relationship was a farce. You were friends with a girl who had self-confidence issues, who still DOES, and you expected it to be a healthy relationship? How much of a dumbass ARE you?

Hurt.

She said that you forced her into the relationship. Once upon a time she told you that something ‘clicked’. Was it all just a ploy? Has she never loved you and just wanted you as her anchor? Of course, she just wanted to hurt you as bad as you hurt her. No. It sounded real enough. She never loved you. It was just a one sided infatuation because you were the first guy to come along that didn’t hit her or cheat on her. How naïve and stupid can you be?

Love.

I remember the way she smelled. The way she tasted. You would kiss her in the morning and not care about her breath, you’d cuddle with her just to be close even as she grew annoyed and disgusted with even being near you in bed. You called her adorable instead of saying I love you, because you knew she had started to hate it. She did so much for you. She drove down to pick you up or visit you every few weeks because she cared. You couldn’t wait to see her, counting down the days until you saw her in person. The texts were never good enough, you wanted the real thing.

Regret.

You never said it right. You always said the wrong thing. You would complain about the shit you didn’t even care about but never complained about the things that actually did bother you. You never told her exactly how you felt when you were bothered because you were afraid of making her mad. But you never realized that she was like your twin. You learned to hide your anger away, but you never helped her figure that out. You never told her you loved her enough, so by the time you started, she got annoyed with you because it was too little too late. She had moved on.

Dark Humor.

She became the thing she hated by doing the thing she did best. Jumping from friend circle to friend circle looking for acceptance. She abandoned the Potts, she abandoned Jared and David, she abandoned Saren, and then she abandoned you to be with her new friends. How can you not see that coming? She dropped Bobby almost instantly upon breaking up with you. Was she only friends with him because you were? Who will she drop next once she moves from Squamish to 56 Alpha?

Disgust.

You can’t find this funny, how can you not see it for what it really is? A broken man who loves a broken woman, who pretended for the last month to care more about what was said than what was felt? How are you any better than her? She pretends she’s mature. You pretend you’re stable. She pretends she’s confident and happy-go-lucky. You pretend you’re iron willed and steel bodied. She pretends she’s perfectly normal. You pretend you know what your plans and true ambitions are. You’re both equally broken.

Remembrance.

You remember sitting on the back deck at your parents’ house, admitting to her she was one of your best friends. You noticed the awkward pause before she said the same thing. Are we all so separate? You have two friends you’d trust your life to. And her. What happened to that? Where are you now?

Pause.

You can’t kill yourself because you don’t know her schedule anymore. She erased you. You’re afraid she would be the one to find you. You’re afraid of her being sad, even though you want to think she wouldn’t care. You wonder if you should delete Teira from your Facebook. You wonder if you should hide away, pretend not to exist so that you don’t cause trouble for her or anyone else.

Anger.

Why should you give up everything for her? Who the fuck is she to dictate your life?

Memory.

You promised to marry her. You knew it meant the world to her that you would be willing to commit your life to her. You made a fuss, pretending to be against it for a little while to make her think it was a bigger deal than it was. The truth was that you’d marry her in a heartbeat, because you loved her that much.

Love.

You remember having sex with her. She kept repeating she was going to be your wife that night. Where is that thought now? You would still marry her in a heartbeat, but I know she wouldn’t want to even talk to me anymore. She erased me, remember?

Hurt.

You would die for her. You would do anything for her. But. That’s over now. She broke up with you. She grew tired of you. She grew frustrated with you. She grew angry with you. She hates you for what you said. It doesn’t matter how much was true and how much was said to hurt her in anger. It’s far too late to take any of it back. You’re destined to be alone.

Loneliness.

Nobody wants you. Nobody needs you, she left you for a reason. She found better people to spend her time with, and wants to pretend you never existed. One of your best friends tells you he doesn’t know what to say. The other tells you he understands and that people need you. It feels like a copy-pasted truth. He admits that. Your parents don’t really want you around, they only let you live here out of obligation.

Realization.

You have no home. You are transient. You migrate friend circles as much as Megan. You are her. You are everything you dislike about her. Everything she does is you in reverse. Neurotic cleaning is your neurotic keeping of place. If your wallet isn’t in the same place every hour of every day you panic. Her bathroom was your wallet. She never let it go that you didn’t clean the bathroom. You hated the fact that she moved your wallet.

Sadness.

You were the same person with genders reversed but you never saw eye to eye. Instead of giving in you both fought until the very end. What a waste of time. What a waste of effort. What a waste of friendship. What a waste of love. Who do you expect to be? Opposites attract they say. But you found out what happens when Similarities collide.

Hurt.

You are broken. You will never be fixed. Neither will she, but she will pretend that she is fine. She will tell everyone how much of an asshole you were, how pathetic you were in the final days, how unwilling to change you were even while promising to be someone else.

Regret.

If only it were different. If you hadn’t let your anger and frustration win. But would it have been different? Even if you hadn’t hurt her, would she have hurt you instead? How can there be a winner when both sides are flawed? Where is the justice? She never broke free of everybody else telling her what to do, especially her mother. She let everybody else tell her what to do even as you refused everybody else’s advice. She was too quick to submit to the wills of others, and you were too stubborn to do the opposite. But you’re both stubborn enough to never admit you were wrong in most cases.

Regret.

Kelsey told her to break up with you. If you had people to talk to, would they have said the same thing in reverse? How can you reconcile that? Who honestly tells the truth? People have self-interests. Kelsey and you prodded each other about religion. If you had been completely open to being Christian would she have said that then?

Pain.

It’s too late. It’s the end. It’s the end. And you’re alone, while she finds someone else. You can’t win. You can’t save anything, and it’s gotten to the point where you’ll lose her as a friend too, because she doesn’t even want to see you in her life anymore. Everyone will hate you. It will destroy your career if she wants to let it. But most of all, you will never be able to see her again.

Love.

I love her. And nothing can change that, even her eraser, even her hate.

Description
Lost.

Anger.

The first that comes. My ancient way of coping. I don’t know what to do. Attacking instead of defending. Saying everything that hurts to hide my own hurt. I don’t know what to do. Saying things I thought once a year. Saying things that will cut deep. Most are true, many are things other people have said, not me.

Realization.

I’m fucking broken. Stupid. I love her. I love her so much. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I stop? Why can’t I shut my fucking face? Why can’t I stop my mouth and stop my brain and stop myself? She’s the same as me, broken on the inside so anger comes out first. We’re too similar to back down. We don’t think even though we say we do. Why are we stuck like this?

Memory.

She burned his things. She wanted to forget so she burned them. She’s going to do the same to mine. I can see the dried roses and origami roses and the birthday letter and the pictures. All of the pictures crumpling up in the fire. The thought hurts more than anything else. I will become a number.

Depression.

I will be number 6. Not even number 7. I will be talked about like the others. Her entire family will hate me, everybody we know will see me as the monster. I will be laughed at. I will be those stories of small penises and cheating and arrogance and abuse. She will hate me more than anything else.

Anger.

She doesn’t even bother to look at herself in the mirror. Who the fuck does she think she is? She judges everyone around her. Discards her friends when they become awkward or inconvenient or annoying. It’s not fair.

Hurt.

She cried twice. In the entire time we fought over the last month she only cried twice. That’s how I knew she had lied about only thinking about it that one Sunday. My head hammered my heart again and again. She stopped loving me. She started to hate me. I was a pathetic hindrance to her. I still love her and she’d rather erase me like Tyson.

Memory.

His family called her rose. Her family always looked at me as if I was just the next in line. Her mom always trying to justify the knowledge she shared. Her aunt always treating me as an accessory. Her stepdad aloof. I hated being given money. I felt like it was some sort of trap. I needed it, but I hated it. I couldn’t refuse.

Anger.

I told her it was her dad who she learned the power of money from. What about the rest? What could I do? Refuse the money and damn myself in their eyes? Accepting was the only choice. Every time the same song and dance. We would refuse politely the first time. It was unconditional. Refusal was never an option. She would tell me how they would ask her if I didn’t cash the cheques. I wanted to help her family because I loved her and wanted to show her family I wasn’t like the others. But I felt like I was being paid to do it. I was always indebted to Megan or her kin. We were never equal. It was the double standard of being poor and yet being proud. I never knew if she was helping me to keep power in the relationship or because she was annoyed at my finance worries or because I simply couldn’t do it without her. My family never did things like that.

Realization.

She hated my mother. They were too similar. She always talked about her as if she was wholly self-absorbed, didn’t actually care about me and just wanted self-gratification. My dad helped her get her class 4 and yet she still doubted them because of my mother. She never stopped talking about her career.

Self-Pity.

My dad helped her with the class 4. I can’t count all the times she came over in that first year and I quizzed her on all the things she needed to know for her program. The times I sat there and asked her question after question for hours to help her study. She always talked about how her career mattered more than me in those final days. Would she even have the career without my help? She failed the program once, was it me and my family’s help that gave her that extra push?

Doubt.

She always talked down to me. Always told me about how my experience meant nothing. My ‘One Nursing Course’ was useless compared to her program. Complete and utter disdain and disregard for my knowledge.

Frustration.

Math. That’s what matters. I never bothered to do it because I knew she wouldn’t care. Her entire program is only 753 hours of instruction. My ONE course was 192 hours of instruction on Anatomy and Biology at a level far beyond hers. How the fuck can she say I know nothing? My single course was a quarter the size of her ENTIRE program. And I took numerous First Aid courses. I’ve seen a man crushed to death by a falling tree, I’ve done self-surgery so many times to reduce scarring or fix problems I can’t even count them. Honestly how the fuck can she expect to treat all of that as if it’s nothing?

Disgust.

It doesn’t matter. She never cared about how much you knew. You only learn to hide your hatred of yourself. You think that knowledge is a gift. Who the fuck else thinks that, you stupid asshole? The world is made up of people who judge first and question later. Why would anybody care what you know? How could you honestly expect her to give a shit about that when you treat knowledge like she does debt? A means to control, and nothing more, you hideous excuse for a human.

Self Loathing.

Why not just kill yourself to save the world some time? Everything everybody says about you is a lie. You pretend to be humble when in actuality you hate everything about yourself anyways. But that’s right, isn’t it? Your biggest flaw isn’t your pride, it’s your cowardice that you try to hide from everybody. You’d kill yourself if you weren’t such a fucking yellow-bellied piece of shit. You can’t even stand up for yourself and say what you feel because you’re afraid of losing her. CORRECTION, YOU ALREADY LOST HER.

Despair.

I love her so much and she hates me. She didn’t just break up with me, she removed me from her existence. She blocked you from absolutely every single possible way so you could ever talk to her again. I expected her to just end the relationship and be done with it, but you fucked everything up so bad that she wanted to erase you from her life.

Hate.

Just die. This woman was supposed to love you and she doesn’t want to even see your name. Who the fuck even cares? You could die and MAYBE your parents would be sad for a day. Your brothers wouldn’t care, Bobby would quickly forget you, Nick would forget you, and nobody would even blink. You’d just be an obituary that nobody bothers to read. Oh that’s right, complete coward right?

Outwards Hate.

You keep telling yourself you’re made of metal, that your flaws are strengths. But she never understood you anyways. How could she ever figure out that you wanted to be something else? She scoffed at your ex for wanting to be some animal, but never understood that you wanted to be perfect. You told her once and you cried and she just had sex with you as if your admission of weakness was sexy or some shit. You wanted to be pure logic. You wanted to never have to deal with the bullshit of emotion or romance. You failed by loving her, but she never even came close to understanding you in return.

Grandiosity.

You were supposed to be the perfect humanist, some godlike figure who was the perfect hybrid of intelligence, memory and physical form. You were supposed to be the savior who would help teens find out what they really wanted from life and show them how they could help others. Who are you now?

Failure.

But here you are, pining over a girl who hates your guts. She’s hated your guts for a while and you know it. You pretend to not care, to be angry and righteous, but you’re just a hurt little boy just like last time. Every relationship you get into, you fuck up when it gets serious. She said you blackmailed her into a relationship, so honestly what the fuck did you expect? She said that right after you brought her father into it. That was the final straw. She wanted to hurt you as badly as you hurt her. How could she love a person who did that anyways? This entire relationship was a farce. You were friends with a girl who had self-confidence issues, who still DOES, and you expected it to be a healthy relationship? How much of a dumbass ARE you?

Hurt.

She said that you forced her into the relationship. Once upon a time she told you that something ‘clicked’. Was it all just a ploy? Has she never loved you and just wanted you as her anchor? Of course, she just wanted to hurt you as bad as you hurt her. No. It sounded real enough. She never loved you. It was just a one sided infatuation because you were the first guy to come along that didn’t hit her or cheat on her. How naïve and stupid can you be?

Love.

I remember the way she smelled. The way she tasted. You would kiss her in the morning and not care about her breath, you’d cuddle with her just to be close even as she grew annoyed and disgusted with even being near you in bed. You called her adorable instead of saying I love you, because you knew she had started to hate it. She did so much for you. She drove down to pick you up or visit you every few weeks because she cared. You couldn’t wait to see her, counting down the days until you saw her in person. The texts were never good enough, you wanted the real thing.

Regret.

You never said it right. You always said the wrong thing. You would complain about the shit you didn’t even care about but never complained about the things that actually did bother you. You never told her exactly how you felt when you were bothered because you were afraid of making her mad. But you never realized that she was like your twin. You learned to hide your anger away, but you never helped her figure that out. You never told her you loved her enough, so by the time you started, she got annoyed with you because it was too little too late. She had moved on.

Dark Humor.

She became the thing she hated by doing the thing she did best. Jumping from friend circle to friend circle looking for acceptance. She abandoned the Potts, she abandoned Jared and David, she abandoned Saren, and then she abandoned you to be with her new friends. How can you not see that coming? She dropped Bobby almost instantly upon breaking up with you. Was she only friends with him because you were? Who will she drop next once she moves from Squamish to 56 Alpha?

Disgust.

You can’t find this funny, how can you not see it for what it really is? A broken man who loves a broken woman, who pretended for the last month to care more about what was said than what was felt? How are you any better than her? She pretends she’s mature. You pretend you’re stable. She pretends she’s confident and happy-go-lucky. You pretend you’re iron willed and steel bodied. She pretends she’s perfectly normal. You pretend you know what your plans and true ambitions are. You’re both equally broken.

Remembrance.

You remember sitting on the back deck at your parents’ house, admitting to her she was one of your best friends. You noticed the awkward pause before she said the same thing. Are we all so separate? You have two friends you’d trust your life to. And her. What happened to that? Where are you now?

Pause.

You can’t kill yourself because you don’t know her schedule anymore. She erased you. You’re afraid she would be the one to find you. You’re afraid of her being sad, even though you want to think she wouldn’t care. You wonder if you should delete Teira from your Facebook. You wonder if you should hide away, pretend not to exist so that you don’t cause trouble for her or anyone else.

Anger.

Why should you give up everything for her? Who the fuck is she to dictate your life?

Memory.

You promised to marry her. You knew it meant the world to her that you would be willing to commit your life to her. You made a fuss, pretending to be against it for a little while to make her think it was a bigger deal than it was. The truth was that you’d marry her in a heartbeat, because you loved her that much.

Love.

You remember having sex with her. She kept repeating she was going to be your wife that night. Where is that thought now? You would still marry her in a heartbeat, but I know she wouldn’t want to even talk to me anymore. She erased me, remember?

Hurt.

You would die for her. You would do anything for her. But. That’s over now. She broke up with you. She grew tired of you. She grew frustrated with you. She grew angry with you. She hates you for what you said. It doesn’t matter how much was true and how much was said to hurt her in anger. It’s far too late to take any of it back. You’re destined to be alone.

Loneliness.

Nobody wants you. Nobody needs you, she left you for a reason. She found better people to spend her time with, and wants to pretend you never existed. One of your best friends tells you he doesn’t know what to say. The other tells you he understands and that people need you. It feels like a copy-pasted truth. He admits that. Your parents don’t really want you around, they only let you live here out of obligation.

Realization.

You have no home. You are transient. You migrate friend circles as much as Megan. You are her. You are everything you dislike about her. Everything she does is you in reverse. Neurotic cleaning is your neurotic keeping of place. If your wallet isn’t in the same place every hour of every day you panic. Her bathroom was your wallet. She never let it go that you didn’t clean the bathroom. You hated the fact that she moved your wallet.

Sadness.

You were the same person with genders reversed but you never saw eye to eye. Instead of giving in you both fought until the very end. What a waste of time. What a waste of effort. What a waste of friendship. What a waste of love. Who do you expect to be? Opposites attract they say. But you found out what happens when Similarities collide.

Hurt.

You are broken. You will never be fixed. Neither will she, but she will pretend that she is fine. She will tell everyone how much of an asshole you were, how pathetic you were in the final days, how unwilling to change you were even while promising to be someone else.

Regret.

If only it were different. If you hadn’t let your anger and frustration win. But would it have been different? Even if you hadn’t hurt her, would she have hurt you instead? How can there be a winner when both sides are flawed? Where is the justice? She never broke free of everybody else telling her what to do, especially her mother. She let everybody else tell her what to do even as you refused everybody else’s advice. She was too quick to submit to the wills of others, and you were too stubborn to do the opposite. But you’re both stubborn enough to never admit you were wrong in most cases.

Regret.

Kelsey told her to break up with you. If you had people to talk to, would they have said the same thing in reverse? How can you reconcile that? Who honestly tells the truth? People have self-interests. Kelsey and you prodded each other about religion. If you had been completely open to being Christian would she have said that then?

Pain.

It’s too late. It’s the end. It’s the end. And you’re alone, while she finds someone else. You can’t win. You can’t save anything, and it’s gotten to the point where you’ll lose her as a friend too, because she doesn’t even want to see you in her life anymore. Everyone will hate you. It will destroy your career if she wants to let it. But most of all, you will never be able to see her again.

Love.

I love her. And nothing can change that, even her eraser, even her hate.