Hate Me

IX

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave

Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made

And like a baby boy I never was a man

Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand

And then I fell down yelling "Make it go away!"

Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be

And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"

When I see women crying, and believe me, I see too many at the bar I work at, I'm reminded of you. Some of them cry because they are broken, some because that's the kind of drunk they are, some even cry because they are happy. But most of the time, when I see women crying I think of you; especially when I see those that cry because they are broken. You cried like them so many times, most of the time it was my fault. I'm sure that many times you cried when I wasn't around, when I couldn't see you and I think I feel worse about those because I wasn't even there to hold you until your tears ceased falling. I wasn't there to apologise. I wasn't there to wipe those tears away.

I'm just so sorry I ever made you cry and I swear I hated it back then as much as I do now, but as it seems to be the norm with me, I couldn't help it.

You know what was the worst? When both of us cried. When I was so fucked up that I couldn't even control myself and be of any support for you and broke down to tears as well. That was the worst because you would have to wipe your own tears and focus on me.

How is that you could do that? How could you push yourself over and over again and put me first even if I didn't deserve it? Just how?

When we were together I couldn't get better. It seemed I was sinking even deeper, that the blackness of my own sorrows and problems had a better hold of myself and pulled stronger than you could do. It seemed that I did worse every day and at some point even I couldn't stand myself. I just wanted someone to magically fix everything that was wrong with me but you can't fix a person, right? That is a term so wrongly used. A person cannot be fixed because once broken the pieces can't be put together and magically be anew. You can mend, you can put back together but it won't be fixed, not completely. There will always be something acting up, you'll see the cracks.

You can't fix a person. You couldn't fix me.

But I was like a child, blowing tantrums and demanding for a solution but not being able to actually take the wheel and do something about it. I just kept doing worse, making more mistakes and dragging you with me.

Do you remember the breaking point in our relationship? When I made the decision? I had been thinking about it for a while already, but that was the moment I realised I couldn't keep doing this to you and to myself. When I knew it was hopeless because if we kept doing this we would only hurt each other.

It was probably one of the worst days of my life. I had sliced my wrist and almost succeeded if you hadn't called for an ambulance and they hadn't been fast. And at the hospital, when I opened my eyes and saw you... a shadow of who you were, looking more like a corpse was like slapping me across the face. I wanted to throw up right there, disgusted with myself. But even if you were half-dead you still smiled and sighed relieved when I woke up. You grabbed my hands and started crying because you were so happy. I couldn't even look you in the eyes because I knew it was my doing, I had done that to you. I scared you, I tormented you even unconsciously. And I hate myself for doing that to you.

"I don't want to keep doing this to you," I told you, remember? It's so clear to me.

"Then don't," you replied so simply. "Don't ever try this again. Don't."

"I don't mean that... I mean..." my voice broke. "I don't want to keep hurting you. I don't want to be like this, so lost and hopeless. I don't want to," I looked at you but you were already blurry. "Stop it."

"I can't do it for you, babe," you said to me, softly, like a plead, cupping my face and everything. Your own eyes were tearing up.

"Fix it. Fix me!" I asked you, begged you and you bit your lips together in a tight line.

"I can't do everything, babe. You have to do your part," you insisted.

"I can't," I confessed. "I just can't. The pain... the pain is so much and so deep. The scars are so deep and ugly and I can't. Help me. Make it go away. All the pain, all the fears, all the hatred. Make it go away!" I yelled, desperation consuming me and also realisation that it was a hopeless case. I knew it when I was asking for it already.

"I can't," you cried as I tried to reach you with my hands, hoping that could actually help but in fact I did it because I knew it. I knew I had to fix this if I couldn't fix myself. I had to stop this torture.

"Make it go away! Fix me!" I stubbornly kept crying out, like a baby boy and the tears were already freely falling down your face.

"How can you do this to me?" you asked with a feeble voice, trembling and placing your hands atop of mine that were holding your face. "I can't fix it all, I've tried. I want to but I can't and you keep asking. What am I supposed to do? I can't do it alone."

I knew it. And I knew I couldn't be fixed. I knew that all I could do was to take the tumour away and let you live again. The smiles and freedom I wanted couldn't happen. I could only get that for you. I could bring the bright smiles for you and the freedom you had before me. That was all I could do. That's the moment I made the decision, that I had to leave you if I wanted you to be better.

That was the moment when I realised and accepted that the only way to save you and help you was leaving you. Seeing you crying like that and so scared because I almost killed myself-again-was the wakeup call I needed. The last one, at least. I knew it from before and accepted it that day. I saw you crying many times but that one was the last, I decided.

That's why broken women crying remind me of you and fill me with guilt again, because you cried like that so many times. I could see your own soul breaking and being torn apart and it was all because of me. I wonder when I see those women what is making them cry, who is making them cry and I wonder if it's someone like me. If they also have someone that is so toxic but can't do the best and leave them.

At least... after all what I did to you, I walked away. I counted all my mistakes and they were so many I could barely stand it. But that was the day I became a real man and stopped being a scared little boy. I made a decision, I took action and did what was the best for you. I'm sure that if I run into you today I'll be pleased to know you've carried on with your life and are doing better. That you've recovered and got your life back in track. I can practically feel in in my heart.

So yeah, it hurt, it made me believe I could never breathe again, but it was the best thing I've ever done. The only thing I'm proud of and that was the moment I made that decision. The moment I did something to fix that mess we lived in.

I made you cry. I broke your heart. I mistreated you. I tormented you. I isolated you. I took you away from the life you deserved... but at the end I stopped that and did an act of true love. As cheesy as that sound and although it wasn't what you would expect from true love, that's what it was. Sacrificing myself and pushing aside my own selfishness for your own good. That is true love, even if you couldn't understand. Even if it hurt you and you thought I was just making it all worse. It was for the best.

Do you believe me now? I hope you do.