When You’re Gone, When You’re Here

When you're gone, I resent you for leaving me to fend for myself

But when you're here, out of nowhere, you can make me feel terrible

Do you not hear yourself when you speak to me?

Or do you just not care?

I used to think that the best thing that could ever happen to me is that someone could love me, choose me above all others in this world

Now sometimes I think that was a lie I grew up believing

At least if I were alone, no one could ambush me with unspeakable hurt again and again, make me crawl inside myself and lose pieces of myself to try to avoid making you mad

Do you know how many times I went and cried alone so you wouldn't see?

Maybe I should let you see, so you would change the way you speak to me.

Or maybe you would just tell me to stop being crazy, that you didn't mean to hurt me, as if casually speaking of your intentions absolves you

Truly, how do I go on loving you?