Sometimes, I wake up with this immense desire to hate you. Sometimes I go to sleep with one. To hate you and turn my back on you, as you did to her when she needed you the most. To ask you were had you been all those times when you accuse her of not raising the kids right. Aren’t the kids your responsibility too? Where were you when they had to stand outside their classes to write an application because their tuition fees weren’t paid on time? Where were you when the little girl waited for you to come and pick her up as you promised but you never showed up?

They say forgiving is liberating. But I don’t want to liberate myself or you. I want you to feel the same thing she felt when you walked away from her, one rainy evening, as she asked you to help her take the kids home. I want you to know what it feels like when you walked away the other times – in the restaurant, in the street, at a party. When you walked away with the money she gave you to buy baby milk for the kids. When you disappeared with your new found treasure to distribute it to your friends. When you left her in an eatery for hours and came home to scold her for leaving you.

I don’t want to liberate you so that you know what effects you have left on me. I still doubt people when we are supposed to meet. Right after reaching the said place, in case I am early, I usually think my friends wouldn’t arrive. That they have changed their mind and decided not to notify me because that’s what people do. Because that’s what you did. I still cannot commit in a relationship because I am afraid I am going to be the one who would disappear. After all, I grew up seeing you disappear numerous of times. I, sometimes, think that love is just another bullshit and so is relationship and marriage and family because I realized none of that ever mattered to you. And I didn’t want to spend my life being you or her.

When I was a kid, I tried defending you. I had millions of excuses ready. I thought you didn’t know how to love or show. Or that you were misunderstood. But I was wrong. Yes, you didn’t know how to love. You also didn’t think it was important. For you, it’s always been you and your life. Your addiction to things that destroy you and your illness. It has never been about me or her or him or them. It has never been about putting someone else before you. It has always been about you and only you. So half the time, I am afraid, I am going to be just like you. I am going to put myself first, put my dreams first, my problems first, my wishes and my wants first. And half the times, sometimes I wish I was you. Not giving shit about anything else.

So I don’t want to liberate both of us. So that I don’t forget the times I have seen her sleepless because you aren’t home. So that she doesn’t see you in me every time we fight.



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