The Dramatics.

The dramatics send me wild, into white rage. Tears pour and teeth ground and I don’t think I ever frown so deeply as when we argue. I hate it, every second of it but somehow it keeps happening. Every single day I become annoyed, upset, angered, infuriated at times, because of you.

Somehow you seem to fuel my anger. Your words are filled with such distain for humanity that they scold me even when whispered. Forever you chime that you’re not perfect and that you hardly think anything of yourself but through this you glare down at everyone within distance to do so. You’re hurtful and cruel and every day I tell myself that I am done with being the person it falls back on, every silent moment after an argument, every delayed response, I am telling myself I’m done, but I never am because I can’t help but to love you. Constantly you tell me that I’m your best friend and that I’m to only one that means anything, if this is true then why does it seem that I bare the bane of your anger and distaste in human-kind.

You’re never going to change like you say you will, but perhaps one day I will. I will stop simply saying it and I will be done with you, one day I mentally won’t be able to handle anymore and this will stop. Is it really what I want? Do I really want to be done? No, but I feel that soon there will be no other choice.