Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Hatred, my old friend.

Hate.  It's not a word I like to apply to many areas of my life, but every time my husband leaves on another work trip, it slips back into my un-trusting mind like an insipid thief.  It burns me, twists me into thinking the darkest thoughts and drives me to push my body to its limits.  It is my control. 

It is an odd feeling to both loathe and love someone at the same time. While I still care very deeply for my husband and still have the occasional overwhelming rush of love for him, his actions will forever be burned into my memory.  He fucked someone else.  Each time he leaves, the feeling of love goes with him and all I'm left with is my hatred.  Hatred, my old friend. 

In my mind, I can curse her as much as I want to. Stupid Canadian slag. Her name is Cam. She's a slut. A fucking whore slut who, one day, will get her just rewards.  One day, before the most sacred and validating day of her and her partner's lives, he will vanish for a few days and fuck someone else.  Karma's a bitch, slut. But it still doesn't make me feel any better.  I'm the one who was made the fool.  And it will never stop hurting.

So in the end, hatred becomes my ally.  It pushes my husband away, making him realise that he has done wrong, and that he must work harder for me to love him again.  It pushes me to keep my temptations at bay, resist the calories, resist the pathetic human desire to eat.  It makes me beautiful.  Every time he comes home, I'm thinner.  Every time he comes home he finds me more and more attractive. Every time he comes home, I love him a little less, but I love my hatred a little more.

It is a terrible juxtaposition, but one for which I am grateful, for without it, I would have no control.

Bless to all,
S xx


  1. This post is amazing, I love it.


  2. Oh my. We are sisters.

    You are the first girl I have encountered on here who is married. I am engaged and have a one year old baby with my fiance.

    My fiance has hurt me as deep as a person can go. He hates my weight almost as much as I do. He has betrayed my trust by refusing to marry me when I got pregnant, and 18months after the baby was born, he still will not. He says he is afraid that my weight will get even higher after we get married.

    I can't even tell you all the things he has done to cut me to the core. And I am pretty sure he has cheated on me at least once, if not more. I understand so well, your post.

    I feel so afraid, because as I pull farther and farther away each time he hurts me, while I still love him, it is as though that love is drowning inside of me, only traces that I can touch. Sometimes I love him so much, but mostly what I feel is fear. I am afraid that being thin again may not make things better.

    What if there is no way to make things better? I want a long life with him, but I want to be loved, and respected, and forgiven. And how do I forgive?

    There are some things that cannot be taken back.