Forgive and Forget

The feeling burned within me. It was sickening and overwhelming. I wanted to scream and yell at anyone in my reach, to hit or kick some of the rage out of me. But I knew this feeling would never go away, no matter how hard I tried to get over it. I poured myself a drink – straight whisky of course – with shaking hands, just barely getting the drink into the glass. The drink soothed me only slightly. The thick alcohol burned down my throat, taking away from the heart ache and pooled in my head, disfiguring my mind and distracted me from my cruel imagination that wanted to torment me until I pulled each hair from my head – which I wasn’t far away from doing.
I sunk to the ground, wrapping my arms around my long legs. I still wore the dress from last night and I regretted wearing such a tight and uncomfortable dress when it wasn’t worth it anyway. I shook and wept, no doubt ruining my make up. I might have sat in that state for hours, sinking in my own depression that was as thick as mud. The only time I broke away from staring blankly at the floor was to pour myself another drink until there wasn’t a drop left. I couldn’t believe that I was crying over a boy of all things. I wanted to walk right up to him and scream into his smug little face that he wasn’t worth the effort, and that he’s an immature little boy with the fat body of an old man and that he was going to die alone. But when I realized that I could barely motivate myself to stand up I knew that confronting the jerk wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
I didn’t believe in love until I met this selfish boy – his love was like honey; beautiful and golden and can make anything, even the darkest moments taste delicious and feel fantastic. It might be hard to make and collect, but it’s worth it, and it never runs out. But I don’t want his love; I’m incapable in fact. I thought he loved me, this boy I was crying over now. I loved him – well I thought I did.
A cold and hard though struck me hard in the back of my head, and I grasped it, realizing that this would be the only chance I got, and this would be the only way to set my life straight. I pulled my mobile from my coat pocket and started typing. I was going to fix this. I can love again.
Forgive and forget? I texted him. Terribly cold way to talk, but if I spoke I would have screamed.

You would forgive me? I thought you hated me?

Love overpowers hate – you said that. Come over?

You won’t try to kill me? haha

Never xx

People use that phrase too loosely I thought as I sifted through my kitchen looking for my carving knife…