(Trigger Warning, Language, and violence).
I Love You. I hate You. (Based on Brutal by Olivia Rodrigo).
*cue guitar solo*
You took all my grace and time
Sugar down, your exhaust pipe
Gasoline all in your eyes
Drowning in your fateful pride
I'm only crazy because I love you
Kiss me baby
You know you want to
"Look up, hun," I say.
He wakes up.
I'm gripping a handful of his brown hair that used to be curly before it got soaked. I yank his head up, he spits out gasoline, gagging. I push the chair upright.
I wish I had better luck with love, all I get is assholes apparently.
"So close," I say, looking right into the fearful eyes of the boy who broke my heart more than anyone will ever break it again. His lips trembling. Eyes red with tears, looking up at the ruby, crystal chandelier, dangling loosely.
Just a few broken links away from...
Now 3 links left to be exact.
I smell the gasoline thick in the air. It smells like my very first cigarette last week. I'm liberated, catch me if you can keep up.
"I want you to tell me why I'm upset," I say to Josh.
"You're fucking crazy," says Josh.
I thought he would say that. I have Joshy here tied up in a chair with his hands behind his back. A red lipstick stain stamped on his left cheek. Maybe Courtney will be jealous. I do hope the lipstick will stay.
I want him to feel my pain. I want him to know what I went through.
So I decided to flood my grandparent's dining room with gasoline.
I'm so independent now, look at me.
But I'm also chill.
This is what chill people do.
2 Links left.
"Please stop, I'm begging you," I hear Josh plead.
I asked him to answer my previous question. He continues to sob, I'm laughing because I've been crying for months. These are his first tears.
"Tough," I say.
I'm walking up the stairs, leading to the main hallway, just before the front door. Josh tells me he loves me. I bite my lip, it's the last time he will ever say that lie to me ever again.
I love you...
You fucked me.
Then cheated on me.
Then fucked me.
Then cheated on me.
Agian and again and again...
1 link left.
I light a match and throw it down the stairs.
0 links left.
The chandelier falls. Josh screams.
The basement is on fire.
A trail of fire follows me out of the house.
I'm outside. The stars are so vibrant tonight. It's a full moon. I feel my body gravitating towards the moon like it's trying to tell me something.
I think about dying, like every day.
I don't know if people like me?
But I also don't know if I like them either?
Everyone is so fake.
Hate is so close to love, they're basically the same thing. I keep thinking about guessing what you're thinking. Now that the flames have reached the 2nd story and are making their way up to the attic heater.
I know we're feeling the exact same thing right now for the first time ever.
You feel despair as I do.
Your lie and my love are the same now.
Hate is our passion.
Blood pumps thick in our hearts either way.
Love and hate, can you tell the difference? Can you?
I do love you, but in the same way that I hate you.
Forever and always,
(1 day earlier).
People keep telling me 17 is supposed to be the time of life. I'm waiting for my time and I don't think it's coming.
My teenage dream is to be an adult. I don't know if things will get any easier when I turn 18. Anything has to be better than this.
Youth is not a right of passage.
It's nostalgia that we hold onto to re-write the past with hindsight once it's all over.
Youth is a fantasy.
Youth is horse shit.
Who the fuck am I?
Where am I going?
Are boys always this dumb?
Is anxiety-like forever?
Will I get smarter?
My only two real friends are Joey and Steph. Joey is Joey.
Joey say, Joey do, that's all he does.
But he's nice to me and eats with me at lunch.
Steph is incredibly intelligent, but she's also a girl so is seen as too loud, too opinionated, or too unnecessary when she does speak up.
I tend to fade into the shadows too, because of this. A woman with a voice is always seen and I don't want such attention.
We're at the lunch tables, Joey is eating spaghetti with meatballs. Steph is eating a Nutri-grain bar.
I never bring lunch. It's not time to eat until 11pm when my stomach aches so bad that I need to swallow something like half a bucket of cookie dough or whatever makes me the most guilty to hate myself. Naturally, I endure the consequences every morning. The next night is always another binge, then wake up again, vomit, then repeat this cycle.
You get an idea.
See the DSM-5 for more details.
Last night was a whole ass pizza. I can feel it churning in my stomach, hard as concrete. I'm down 3 pounds since last week. 10 pounds this month. I keep a packet of skittles in my backpack in case I feel like I'm going to pass out, like a heavy pass out. Usually, I can manage to be lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. I ain’t no bitch. A relatively sleepwalking bitch for most of the day. A zombie.
"Did you hear me," asked Steph?
I ask her what. She tells me about how Josh performed the love song we wrote together in the school courtyard to ask his new (it's been a few months but it's still new to me) girlfriend, Courtney to prom.
Steph is biting her fingernails. They're nearly all nibbled off. She is on her last pinky.
Joey chokes on a piece of meatball, "Screw that dude you can write a better song than him," he coughs, then takes a sip of soda. "I thought you said you didn't care anyway?"
"You don't know anything about girls do you," said Steph, rolling her eyes.
Steph put a hand on Joey's shoulder, "Listen closely unless you want to die alone."
Joey gulped anxiously.
Steph grabbed his soda and took a sip. "When a girl says she really doesn't care, what she really means is..."
"That I love you so much I want to punch your stupid face in, burn your body to ashes, so I can show the world how much of a fucking asshole you are," I say hugging my stomach.
"Noted," said Joey.
"Well, that's a bit much," said Steph.
"Are you okay," asked Joey.
"Fine, I'll see you guys tomorrow. I'm bailing," I said.
"We're your friends. Let us be your friends. Talk to us, what's up with you," says Steph.
"I'm fine," I say. “Just fine.”
He hates me not.
He loves me so.
He hates me not.
I love him so.
I Love you...
I hate you...