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.