Emotional Punching Bag

I am always at fault.

I am always the problem.

You can never be the bad guy; you can never be the reason for this fight. You are prefect, untouchable.

You say you’re trying, but I don’t see it.

What I see is anger,

What I feel is pain and hurt.

You spit venom at me, you rage at me, you seep hatred at me.

You tell me you will leave; you blame my mental health. You use my weakness against me.

You now escalate to violence but defend your action you must.

Tell me how wrong I am for being scared.

Tell me how I overreact.

Tell me how it was only an object you hit.

Tell me I made you do it.

I try, I try to make myself better, I try to change myself.

You make no changes. You make empty promises. Rage at me when I don’t see the change, when I don’t believe your promises because I’ve heard it before.

And yet, I love you.

I love your humour; I love your body and smile.

I love your laughter.

I love your addictive personality. Your outgoing, exciting, and confident.

I love your work ethic, your hard working. Always pushing yourself.

I love your enormous heart, always quick to help anyone in need.

I just wish you would love me the way I love you.