She hated him; she despised him. She felt dirty, unprotected, used, abused. Not literally; she internally scolded herself, more in a figural or emotional sense of the words. The turmoil's that so conflicted her heart and mind were all the responsibilities of one man. One man that she hated; hated with every fiber of her being. Or maybe it was just that she wanted to hate him; that was the more probable answer she thought to herself. She hated him; she hated him; she hated him. She repeatedly thought it. Trying to convince herself more than anyone else around her.
Not that they could hear her inner battle; but they knew. They all knew, one glance and anyone with half a brain and a heart the size of a pin would know. She dared not even try and sneak a glance in his direction; if she did, she feared the whiplash that was sure to ensue.
She goaded herself to turn back to the task at hand, sleeping. She couldn't close her eyes without his appearing along with a devilish smirk. She hated him; she again tried to remind herself. To no avail was her trying to hate him effective. She turned her head; 11:47pm digitally imprinted into her brain. She turned her back away from the digital time piece that would no doubt wake her the second she fell asleep to the waiting day and prolonged task of avoidation. She thought back and came to the same conclusion she always did; she needed closure. She bit back the tear and lump starting to form in her already tight throat.
How could he? Why would he? I don't understand? Men! The thoughts all too bitterly arose to what she realized was her very conscious state of mind. She despised the man that plagued her every thought and dream. She hated him. After he had tormented, chided, and annoyed her; she could no longer look at him, think about him, especially in uniform. She hated him. She hated him. She loved him. She hated him. She HAted him. She HATed him. She HATEd him. She LOVED him her mind screamed out at her. But she would not allow it the time of night; or day, whichever you think more appropriate.
She couldn't. If she did; then she could not face him. She could not face him as it was; but if she allowed herself that one luxury, that one simple thought, she would be driven to madness. A madness she was sure she had already reached; a madness that would send her to an early grave. So she kept telling herself that she hated him. It was easier that way. It helped her. And on some level of her deranged and psychotically headed mind, it eased the pain. And everyone knew how well she dealt with pain…She simply didn't. If she thought it would hurt; she ran. If she knew it would hurt; she cried before it happened. And in some way, the coping mechanism helped her realize; she had to get closure, because she could cry tonight.
Tomorrow was the day she declared boldly to herself. Tomorrow was the day she was going to seek out the closure that would inevitably be the end to her fantasies. That's what they were; that's all they were she chided; fantasies. She hated that; no; she condescended upon herself, she hated him. But alas, tomorrow became a today and today became a yesterday and all she was left with was another tomorrow to put her long awaited miserable end upon. Another tomorrow to which she could add to the piles of yesterdays that used to be her long awaited tomorrows that she would seek her closure on.