Inside by Iryna Kaban

I have always thought that it's easy

to describe the feeling of love, well, it is, but seems so primitive and banal. Always the same phrases and words. "Butterflies in stomach". There are no butterflies, silly, it's a hormone called adrenaline, and it says 'run, darling, run as fast as you can'. I could have written something like: when he(or she, let's make it general) touches me I feel my skin embraced by million petals of chamomiles (roses are too hackneyed topic) or the mint breath (every book I've read said that lovers have minty breath, did all the authors had a meeting and private investigation about it?) of my significant one much more important than oxygen for me. Ok, chamomiles are really cute. But. Hatred is much more interesting. It always has different motives and actions involved in process. That's why we all are drooling for villains, they are just intriguing. Heroes, what about them? They are predictable and boring, so sweet and good, typical stuffy fluffy boys, but always noble and strong. But you know, the best ones to date, I must admit.

So, I am rather a villain, even though I don't like to call myself like, but I killed, no, I've been killing permanently. Not physically, mentally. I've been destroying her self-esteem for ages. I hated her; I think she was the person I despise the most. By the way, why was when she still is?

My morning starts not from coffee, well, I just like cacao more. After that the part of bullying starts. I criticize her when she tries to pick up the clothes.

"Don't you see how fat are you? You gained weight, it's not surprising why you can't get into those jeans."

She makes a mistake today, as usual, she doesn't get maximum grade, she has a one point lower than maximum. You know what will come next? Yeah, a portion of digging and belittling her achievements, and, ooh, the greatest part - comparing to others, in advance loosing game. It hurts. She might cry today, or no, depends on when the cup will be filled, but usually little things are enough.

I just want her to love me, she knows it, but she can't stop this harassment. She is kind of addicted to this, like to heroin injections. I don't get angry, but...I do.

"Why can't you stop? You see how painful it is, it tears me into slivers, why do you hate me so much?" She never answers. Of course, she doesn't know WHY.

She actually wants me to be happy, to get the ray of care and warm, but her problem is that she thinks, that I deserve to be loved only if I'm perfect: if I am beautiful, fit, smart and successful enough. She is dependent on social approval, desperately needs it. She thinks she will love me only if others will admire me. She tried to change me a thousand times, so as she tried to change her opinion too, but still it worked only for too short periods.

But the most obvious thing she doesn't see or doesn't want to be that I can't be loved if she doesn't love me.

***

I don't hate every inch of her, no. I love her laugh, for example, in the moments when she burst with loud laugh, what makes others follow her, because it's so contagious. And I like her hair, it looks almost like a beauty standard. And she is not stupid in reality and I see her victories, I'm just pretending to be blind, I wish I could stop.

I keep running from destructions, but I can't. Sometimes I purposefully bring her to tears. What I feel? Sometimes a relief. But it's like to get pleasure of cutting someone's skin. Gross.

I want this ice cream so much, you can't even imagine, but she will say: "Are you nuts? Are you going to get excess calories?" She will make me feel guilty of it. For every slice of pizza, glass of juice or candy. And maybe, she will force me to vomit. If she loses control, I overeat, and then she makes me feel guilty.

I know, I should be perfect to make her love me, but there is no one perfect in this world and I will never be. The problem isn't in me, but in her head.

I want to help her, and so to help myself. I tried to talk to her. Didn't work.

Do you want what I feel when she throws all the mud onto me? I would say pain, but it's too simple.

My heart cracks and I are drowning in emotions, mine and her, they are mixed up. Sometimes it hits me so bad that I slowly fall to the floor, just like in dramatic movies. And I don't hear anyone else except her. How many times people have told me compliments, but then she come in and builds the wall of negative, making me deaf.

***

I look at her today. Right in eyes.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry, I wish I could stop it, I will try, I promise you. I know I have failed too often, but I will try. I'm just sorry."

She doesn't say a word, she just repeats the movement of my lips. Of course, she will not answer, she is a reflection. Mirrors don't speak.