i hate that for the longest time i confused pain with love. i hate that i live in a society where women are taught that violence represents passion. i hate that it is normal to believe that "the reason we hurt each other so much is because we are deeply in love with each other". i hate that films and books and every single type of media i can think of puts forward this belief that true love means betrayal, and pain, and hurt. that the only way you can know if someone really loves you is if they leave a mark.
for the longest time i thought it was acceptable to be fucked around and hurt so much by one person, because everything in my life had taught me that love is unbalanced and fucked up and confrontational and passionate and angry and unrequited. i hate that i hurt myself for the longest time because i thought that i deserved what you gave me, that it was normal for women to go to bed drunk and weeping because their man had done them wrong. i hate that i romanticised it, that as soon as i was removed from the situation i justified it in my head and tried to make it sound beautiful and poetic and worthwhile. i hate that back then i was so fucked up that i'd rather have you in my life treating me like shit than not at all. i hate that i prioritised your presence over my own, in my own fucking life.
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