Seven

I don't remember you. All I remember is your actions. I think I might have subconsciously repressed the memory of you, because I wanted to forget all about you. But still, I see you at school and I gag. I hate you. But why? Because of how you treated me? At one point, yes. But no, i'm not upset at your actions anymore. I hate you because if  I didn't I would still be in pain. I would still miss you and still hurt when I remembered you think i'm nothing compared to her. So I don't like you, I hate you, but I can't pretend I don't care about you. I try not to care, but whenever I see you, after my initial gag reflex, I just want to go over and hug you. Hug someone who I hate. I want to make you feel better. Feel happy. But I don't because 1: I hate you, and people would get confused because, why would I hug someone I hate?  and 2: I can't make you feel better. I cant make you happy. Not like I used to.  So I just gag, and laugh at how pathetic you have turned out to be. And how you hang out with all the people I don't like.
I think how I dogged a bullet (and I probably did) but i'm pretty sure that bullet didn't completely miss me. If it missed me completely I wouldn't see you and feel that split second of despair. And I want with every fiber of my being to be mad at you. You are so damn terrible, you're self absorbed and you lie and you manipulate, and you're mixed up. But none of that made me mad like it should. All it did was hurt, a throbbing ache in my chest and face. Even when you told my friend lies about me, and secrets I had confided in you, I wasn't mad. I was hurt. I was desperately hurt. And that "anger" I showed, that was an example of my acting. That was the reaction society says I should have. I had no idea how else to respond. I was protecting myself from you causing me that despair again. Then I when we stopped interacting after that, all that pain went away. However, for that split second when I see you, it comes back.
So I think that bullet grazed me. I hate you, but care about you, when I see you it still feels like stab in the chest the split second before my brain can naturally give me the armor of hate. And hate does wonders. It also makes me a bitch toward the person I hate. But then that whole caring about you makes me feel bad.  I still don't understand how I can care about you and hate you.  It's Basically: Go to Hell... you'll be ok down there