This is for Thelma.
There is a fine line between love and hate. A fleeting flutter in your stomach, a quickening of the pulse, a catch in a breath. Is it love, the first blush of love and adoration? Or is it hate? Is it possible to love a person who has caused so much hurt?
The anticipation of the coming, the arrival. Is it excitement or dread? Is it possible that's it both?
The dreams, the expectations, the reality. Rarely are they ever the same, or even similar. Once in love, now in despair. Once a whole, now broken.
The stress, the fear, the pain. Reality sets in, the despair becomes palpable.
Face to face, anger replaces love. Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing will ever be the same.
Let it go, let the tears flow. Learn to forgive, there is nothing to be gained by holding on. Say your piece, say it all. Let it go.
Resigned to change, nothing is the same. Move on, let it go. There is nothing to be gained by holding on. Let it go.
There is a fine line between love and hate. Learn to love again, let the hate go.
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