If I Can't Have You

They say there’s a fine line between love and hate. But I don’t think there’s a line at all. They’re the same thing. What we love we hate for loving. What makes us more vulnerable than love? What hurts as much? It’s a tightrope that we walk. Wavering from one side to the other. Desperate to keep our balance. But sometimes you can’t. Sometimes it tips and there’s nothing you can do.

Whoever you were before has gone. Your ghost walks the earth. You look the same, sound the same, but are not the same. You don’t breathe oxygen the way you did before. You negotiate life under an ocean. Drowning as you do your shopping, drowning as you ride the bus, drowning as you go to work. You can’t live with this, you think. No one could live with this. It’s unliveable.
Then there are moments when your head rises above the water. You find something funny, laugh. A glimpse of your previous self. Until you are submerged once again. Guilty for your brief ability to breathe.

Whatever our souls are made of, his & mine are the same. Underneath in smaller writing, Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights.

“I’m fine” is one of the most misleading phrases ever to be uttered,

Unexpressed emotions will never die.
They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways’
SIGMUND FREUD

someone doesn’t want to sit in your chair, Constance, you let them go and sit where the fuck they like, because you’re better off without them – they don’t deserve you,

Nothing could be more than us,’ she said.

Happiness depends on your positivity of thought,

They say there’s a fine line between love and hate. But I don’t think there’s a line at all. They’re the same thing. What we love we hate for loving.

you are submerged once again. Guilty for your brief ability to breathe.

Over time the water levels drop.

First you tread water; then you swim; then you wade; then you are paddling; until finally you are walking alongside a stream. It flows next to you. Wherever you are, whatever you do, however happy you’re feeling, it’s there.

But sometimes, be it a song, a crumpled shopping list found in a coat pocket, an anniversary, their birthday, your birthday, Christmas, hearing the theme tune to Coronation Street, which you’ve avoided ever since, the stream becomes a river, becomes an ocean and you are drowning once again.