I wish I could hate

If I knew how, it would be so much easier to let it go. I wouldn't fret over how you treat your body, I would be utterly apathetic and it would feel so much better inside. But I'm not capable of hate, so instead I feel anger, frustration, and pain. You want escape. From what, life? What's so difficult that you feel it necessary to swindle your consciousness over with something masochistic? You're real. The scent of your skin, the ripple in your laugh, the guileless smile you chance to show when your pain is momentarily cut short. Let it wither with time, not extend into eternity with your pathetic tendencies. Live. Ache. Fucking scream, cry and beat me black and blue if it'll make you feel better. But don't go out of your way to hurt yourself for the sake of escape.

You fucking have to deal, okay? I've dealt with shit, I'll continue to. No substance will be able to take the wretched pain away. It may exist until I die, but at least I'll grow. You won't with your immature irresponsibility. Sure, we do stupid shit as kids. Everyone does. But you have control over what stupid shit you do.

I don't hate you, but I hate what you've chosen to do.