You should have told me. You should have told me you were bad for me...

You should have told me how hard his would be,

Instead you let my love grow for you like a tree.

I entwined my roots around yours and let the tips of our branches touch,

I didn't love you as such,

but, almost maybe more, then not much.

All those nights spent under the stars,

Watching the city lights with the faintest hum of cars,

Drinking wine and smoking your dads cigars...

Little did I know you were taking me away,

A small piece of brightness each and everyday,

A small piece until all I was left with was the thought of a holiday.

A holiday I thought I was to fly on with you,

If only I knew,

What little good you had done and would do.

I pushed everyone else out of the picture,

Until it was a couples portrait featuring a love elixir,

Now its a painting of an unrecognisable me and my favourite bottle of liquor.

Loneliness hurts more then you breaking my heart,

If only I was warned at the start,

If only I could put the pieces back together that had fallen apart.

You should have told me. You should have told me you were to hurt me so badly...

I wish I hadn't pushed everyone away, I wish I weren't so lonely,

I wish I hadn't thought you were the one and only.

I wish you hadn't treated me like a trophy then, left me so coldly...

She stayed up all night with a swollen face and fresh tears. Betrayal. There was no other word for it. All this time, she let ignorance cloud her judgement. She should have listened to her mother.  Her advice would always ring true after the fact. 

Now she sits, watching bitterly as her brother bites into a chocolate bar. Her back molar ached in anticipation. She had a sweet tooth and a candy addiction most third graders have yet to see.  

You should have told me you were bad for me. As if I didn't know, as if the way you looked at me not with love but with carnal lust was not a first warning sign. The good, the bad, the ugly everything that you came with I took it all. Why? 

Maybe because I myself only looked back at you with lust. Maybe because I myself hated the quiet parts of me I was without you. With you I am wild, angry, a part of myself awakened and I.... I was caught up in your world of lies, cheating, passion.

Together we were bound to crash. Without one another what do we really have? When you're with me I have moments where I can breathe peacefully. Your arms wrap around me and I.... I feel at home. These moments of light and peace are only small glimpses of what could be. The calm before the storm. A storm of mistrust and bad judgement on both our parts...

In the end what do we have left?.... In the end what have we given each other if not pain. The bitterness of your kiss... the sweetness that comes with our passion has died long ago because we've consumed too much of each other. In the end... we are left empty and filled with regret. You and I are bad for each other. I am too prideful, you are too angry. We are both wrong. In the end... we are back to being what we once were when we began. Strangers wanting to be loved and left with bitter feelings of loneliness...

We couldn't look at each other. I could feel the cold air blowing through my hair. I was freezing, but I wouldn't tell him. It had been six months. I thought I was okay with him but seeing his face just made that all go out of the window.

"Why are you back?"

"I want to pay you back."

"I'm fine," I lied.

He could clearly tell. He pushed my hair out of my face and made me look at him. He kissed my cheek, and the tears I had held back began to roll down my cheeks. He just brushed them away.

"Please, just leave me alone," I begged. My voice broke, and the sob came rushing out. "Please, you've hurt me enough. I just want to be okay for once. I don't want this again. Please."

He kissed my cheek again, softer this time, and moved my hair again. "Listen, I changed."

"You said that before. You told me you were going to fix yourself. You told me you got your job back. You told me all of this bullshit and none of it was true! Why should I fucking believe you now, Brandon?"

"Because I actually did. Listen, I can't go to casinos anymore. I can't stay with my parents anymore. I can't do anything I used to be able to do because I' m fucked up. I will always be fucked up. Just, look at me, please."

I just turned further away.

"Baby, look in my eyes. You'll see I' m not lying. I don't care how anyone else feels but I love you. I hurt you the most. So I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I'm sorry and I swear I will never do anything like that ever again. I'm so sorry, okay?"

I just sobbed harder. Brandon held me, and I could feel his heat. I knew he was sorry since his tears were on my hair, and the man didn't even cry when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. He held me tightly for a few minutes, before letting me go. He kissed my forehead.

"I love you. I'm so sorry," he whispered before walking away.

I started to leave before feeling something in my pocket. $5,000. I didn't know where he'd gotten it or how but I knew he was really sorry. I held it to my chest and walked back to my apartment.

My eyes glare daggers at the enemy. In this moment, I can’t help but to stare into the shared eye color between us. Hazel eyes that my partner has described as a trail down a cold set of woods that leads her to a safely guarded cabin where she can rest in squishy armchairs and drink warm hot coco by a fire. The same hazel is reflected from me onto her and then back to me. An endless loop, like mirrors in a fun house. She glares back.

My hand rises and hangs softly in the air as my mind replays everything this enemy has done to me. She’s created distance from passion, love, happiness, family, friends, and partners. She reminds me of everything I’m not. She reminds me of everything I couldn’t do. Everyone I couldn’t keep. My flaws consume me when I stare into those hazel eyes. Her hand rises and presses back against mine.

I hate her because I know her inside and out. I hate her because I’m insecure. I hate her for all of the past she’s destroyed. I hate her for all of the mental torment she puts herself through. I hate her because she can’t control herself. I hate her because she’s incapable of achieving her standards. I hate her because her standards are too high. I hate her because she does everything she hates just to keep people around her. I hate her because she can’t make anyone stay. I hate her because everyone else’s opinion means the world to her. I hate her because she lets people use her. I hate her because she’s too dumb. She’s too fat. She’s too sensitive. She’s too naïve. She’s too desperate. She’s too cowardly. She’s too easy to take control of. She’s worthless. She’s never enough. She’s a burden. She’s lifeless. She’s reckless. She can’t take compliments. I hate her because she can’t provide for those she cares for. I hate her because the only emotion she feels is depression. I hate her because she shuts down and becomes unresponsive. I hate her because she can’t move beyond her problems. I hate her because she keeps herself awake at night crying over regrets.

I bow my head but no tears come because I have too much to do when I leave this room. I rather not make anyone’s life more unbearable with pretending they’re obligated to comfort me. I used to cry about her, but now I’m only resigned. Now I’ve learned to smile again and play along as if she’s not a part of my life. Some days it’s as simple as turning my back on the mirror until she disappears. Today won’t be one of those days but I leave my room anyway.

I hate her because I am her.

“You should have told me,” she says, “You should have told me you were bad for me”

“I couldn’t”

“You could,” she looks away from me, “You know you could have”

“It would have been all you saw in me”

I want to tell her. I desperately want her to know.

“You didn’t give me a choice,” she’s crying now. Not loudly, not with true sorrow, not with pain. She’s crying for anger. I do not blame her.

How could I tell her, there are no words I can find? No way to make her understand. She’s only just seen the surface. She still doesn’t know of the iceberg that lies beneath.

She’s staring at me now, waiting. I have no choice. I must try or I will lose her.

“This taint on my soul, I cannot remove it,” I start, “I’ve tried, by God Selene, I’ve tried,” my hands are trembling. I’ve never spoken these words aloud before today.

“How did it happen?” she asks me. As if it were a simple question.

“One-hundred and fifty years ago, a woman came to me. She offered me this life. I was a fool,” Something strange happens. I feel a wetness on my cheek. This is the first tear I’ve shed in a century. It feels queer against my pale cold skin. I consider it for a moment before realizing Selene’s gaze has not left my own.

I continue, “She told me I would be young, I would be healthy, I would be powerful. She said I will never have to want for anything. She told me she could make me this way”

“And you accepted?”

“Wouldn’t you!” I snap back, I don’t mean to, but I do. Emotions are different than they were before. I rarely feel them anymore. When I do, they are like a tidal wave crashing into my body. Anger comes on in a rage, lust in a magnetic force, sorrow in a deep pit in my soul.

Love, I thought I had lost love. I thought love would be replaced by these baser emotions. Over one-hundred years ago now, I resigned myself to never feel love again. Until I saw Selene dance.

She moved with grace like I had never seen. Her dress flew across the floor with elegant passion. Her feet swung wide and quick, while her hands moved with cheer and love. But her hair, that is what I remember the most. It gracefully followed her every movement. It was like an eerily graceful partner in her revelry. That was when the love took me.

I realize she’s still waiting for me to speak.

“I will never die, Selene, I will stay this way forever. I would move heaven and hell to grow old and die with you, but I never will. I should have told you, but I never could. I waited one-hundred and fifty years to find you. And I would wait it again. I will always love you”

The cool air of night brushed against his cheeks. He felt a pain in his chest, an ache that once was nothing. His eyes flickered to the thing, the smooth, comforting touch of the cigarette in his hand. The very first time he let the softness of it touch his lips, the very first time he drew in the smoke he was hooked. Nothing could make him depart from the thing that made him forget the pain of life, not even his mother's death of lung cancer could persuade him. And now he lost it all, the scholarship he achieved from swimming to attend the college he most desired to attend, and his girlfriend whom he held so dear left because she couldn't deal with the smoke anymore.

He looked down upon his only friend, a tear slid from his bloodshot, tired, heavy eye. "You should have told me. You should have told me you were bad for me."

You should have told me.

You should have told me

You were bad for me

Long before,

I smelled the whiskey

On your breath,

Days before

Friday night,

When you took

My hand.

You should have told me.

You should have told me

I couldn't trust you

Long before,

I tasted the alcohol

On your lips,

Days before

Friday night,

When you took

me to that

room upstairs.

You should have told me.

You should have told me

Not to ignore

The rumors

Long before,

I felt your hands

On my skin,

Days before

Friday night,

When you

Ripped my

Nicest  dress.

You should have told me.

You should have told me

You were bad for me

Long before,

I had to

Scream for help,

Days before

Friday night,

When you

left me alone,

Crying on that

Bedroom floor.

You should have told me.

you should have told me.

you should have said it's all in my head,

it's all on my mind.

all coming down,

kicking me blind.

you should have told me you were bad for me.

you should have told me you loved her,

then i wouldn't have fallen so hard.

“You should have told me. You should have told me you were bad for me.” You yelled at me.

I wanted to tell you a lot more than I said. I wanted to say how I did warn you, long ago too. I wanted to tell you that even after I warned you it was all on you when you decided to stay with me. I wanted to say that my behavior and what I did was also a constant warning. I wanted to get angry at you for yelling at me and I wanted to yell at you myself. But I didn't do that. I kept my mouth shut all because I loved you even if you didn't love me at the moment that you yelled at me. I truly loved and cared for you even if I didn't show it.

Because of the love that I have for you I stayed quiet and I let you yell at me all you wanted and needed to. It was all because I love you.