Hurt
Have you ever been so hurt you wanted to hurt somebody else?
This is a punch to the gut, no, a gunshot wound to the head.
How long had you been fucking him before I found out?
The white hot ire I feel strips away your puppy-dog eyes. You're no puppy, I'm not falling for it.
You total bastard.
All those times you said "I love you" didn't mean a damn thing.
All those nights we spent together twisted forever in a single revelation. They are poisoned, burned up. From beautiful to disturbing in no time at all.
All those memories are a fire-pit of deception and regret.
I opened up to you and you took advantage of me.
You tuck your tail between your legs and you lower your ears and point your muzzle at the floor.
Your body language is telling me it was a mistake, that you didn't mean it, that you were ignorant and out of your right mind.
You're fucking lying.
This is the last time I'll ever believe a damn thing you tell me.
You back away when I take a step towards you.
I see myself reflected in your eyes: fierce and furious and snarling.
I take you by your shoulders and shake you.
I shout in your face.
I call you the kinds of things you deserve to be called.
You tell me to let go, that I'm hurting you.
As if I care.
You hurt me.
I want you to hurt too.
You start crying. You say you're sorry.
As if I care.
I want you to cry.
You deserve all of this.
You worthless, arrogant, self-important fuck.
You stole my life and treated it as nothing more than a plaything.
Am I nothing more to you than a bed to sleep in and a roof over your head?
You sick fuck, am I nothing more to you than steady dick and a steady lifestyle?
You blood-sucking wretch.
You'd be better off dead.
You stole my fucking life.
You push me away and retreat to the corner of the room.
You're telling me to calm down.
Wait.
Let me make sure I'm understanding you correctly.
YOU are telling ME to calm down.
Go fuck yourself.
Go. Fuck. Yourself.
My fists are clenched as I approach.
You hapless fool, you backed yourself into a corner.
You wave your paws at me and yell shrilly about how sorry you are and how I don't know the whole story and other such diversionary bullshit.
Your whole face is wet, you've been crying so much.
Your ears are so far dipped they blend into your fur.
When I take another step you flinch.
I start to laugh.
You think I'm going to hit you?
You think I'm going to hit you.
How fucking funny.
You're scared of me?
Well, you should be.
But you think I'm going to hit you?
It's like you don't even know me.
It's like all our time together never even fucking happened.
It's like you never even cared in the first place.
This was just some sick fucking game to you.
My life was a game to you.
I'm not going to hit you, I have a far better plan.
I'm going to make sure everyone I know knows what you did.
Then I'm going to make sure everyone you know knows what you did.
Then you'll realize.
Then you'll see.
The easiest way to hurt somebody isn't with a punch to the gut, or a gunshot wound to the head.
It's with words.
You think I'm going to hit you?
I'm going to do so much worse than that.
You've given me an ammunition stockpile large enough to riddle your life with holes and you best fucking believe I'm going to use it.
You look broken.
It seems at some point you began to understand how badly you fucked up.
It's far too late for that.
I don't have any damn sympathy left for you.
Oh, and, you don't live here anymore, so get the fuck out.