I Hate Him
I hate him in the dull blue hours of morning when sleep won't come back and the ceiling starts to look like a confession
I hate him in the silence after songs end when the last chord fades and there's nothing left to distract me from the thought of you laughing somewhere I'm not
I hate the way I imagine him like he's taller, steadier like his hands don't shake when love gets too close like he knows exactly what to say and never says too much
I build him into something perfect just so I have something to destroy
I hate him for the way you probably look at him soft, unguarded like you used to look at me before I turned every moment into something fragile and then dropped it
I hate him for knowing the shape of your mornings for hearing your voice before the world gets loud for existing in the spaces I used to swear were mine
I think about his name sometimes roll it around in my mouth like it's something bitter I can't quite spit out
I wonder if he knows how you take your coffee if he notices the way you go quiet when something hurts if he understands the weight of loving you or if he just carries it better
I hate him because he didn't have to watch it fall apart
I hate him because he didn't hear the things we said when everything was cracking the apologies that came too late the promises we both knew we couldn't keep
I hate him because he gets a clean slate and I'm stuck rereading every mistake like it's scripture
And sometimes the hatred burns so hot it almost feels like purpose like I've found something solid to stand on again
but it never lasts
Because underneath it under all that anger all that imagined rivalry all the stories I tell myself to make it easier to breathe
there's something worse
sometime quieter
something honest
He didn't steal you in some dramatic, cinematic way there was no moment where you were ripped from my hands
There was just distance small at first almost unnoticeable
A missed call a shorter reply a look that lingered somewhere else
And then one day you were already gone long before you said it out loud
So I hate him, yeah I say it like a mantra like it'll stitch something back together
But the truth is he's just a stranger who showed up after the fire
And I'm the one still standing in the ashes holding pieces of something I helped burn down
I hate him because it's easier
Because if I don't I have to sit with the fact that you chose a life that didn't have me in it
And there's no villain in that story
Just two people who couldn't make it work and one of them who hasn't learned how to let go yet















