Why can’t I hate you?

The first time I met you I felt wariness because society, etiquette and common sense dictate that when you meet a stranger you treat them with caution and be suspicious of their every word and actions but I decided to ignore the forces that control human thinking and under two days you had spun a web over me and I was all yours. I became soo hooked on you, my addiction to you was worse than your addiction to weed. You were all I wanted for now and forever, but in this cocoon of love I felt for you I could see cracks, cracks created by the wind blown from the words of friends; words as strong as hurricanes and typhoons warning me of who you were and what you were capable of were ignored by my stubbornness, stubbornness that held fast to the notion that they didn’t know you and that I knew you better than they could ever imagine, but once again I kept forgetting that you never really talked about yourself and I couldn’t write a one page essay of who you really are. I could only see the purity of the love I believed you felt towards me, a purity that was tainted by the looming presence of a girlfriend you never felt important to mention.

Time has gone by and I still want you more than Martin Luther wanted non segregation, the images in my head of us together was a veil that covered the truth that was glaring in my face; you didn’t love me and despite your words said it your actions never relayed it. Regardless of all the ways I have tried to hate you, your boyish smiles and devilish looks come back to me, hitting me with the force of a thousand armies and my defences against you crumble, defences fortified by the greatest agent of hate; anger followed by her sister disappointment and whenever this happens I have to pinch myself and remember that I dare not dream about you, try to remember what you smell like or what you would do about a particular situation, remember that me needing you is as unhealthy as me getting drunk every night and sometimes spending time with you feels like I’m drunk. I have to always remember that no matter how hard I try I will never be your other half.
The withdrawal symptoms I suffer as a result of your absence make me weak; the tears purging my heart and the sobbing makes my throat sore. Red eyes and tissue paper are my new best friends and as I slowly get better, which seems to be taking longer than forever I have come to the realisation that my love for you cannot exist and even though I am yet to agree with this; there are a lot of reasons for why I would love you and listing them would take me longer than I want to, but the one reason why I can’t love you is beyond my reach and I am yet to know it. Hopefully at the end of my tearful journey it would be evident, till then I will still love you.
"Every time you touch me and say you love me, I get a little bit breathless I shouldn't want it but it's you" Grande.
@Nkemoyaghire