It was inevitable. Of course I ended up here -- with him. Every time something goes wrong I somehow end up running into him. And something definitly went wrong this time...
I think I hate you...
But they say it's a fine line
That separates hate and love
'Cause they're both passion kinda things...
Dammit! We made a mature, mutual decision, Yamcha and I. It wasn't working on that level, we're closer to best friends than anything. So why do I feel like crying?
You're glaring at me in that 'should-I-kill-you' way that you always do. Grrr.....you make me so mad, you don't even have to do anything....
"What the hell are you doing here, onna?"
It's funny really...
The way we are sometimes
You'd think we were in grade school
Still harassing the one we like most...
"My name is Bulma, you stuck up little prick! And this happens to be my home! I can go anywhere I want!!!"
You stare at me for a moment before humphing and returning to your food. What, no comeback, your majesty?
Frustration is choking me, but I can feel the tears welling up. Whirling I start to exit the room before you can see my weakness.
You mutter something I can't hear.
Why are things like this....
When the one who seemed so perfect
Is so completely, entirely wrong
And then there is you...
I turn back, my cheeks are red hot now. "What did you say?" My voice comes out as a hiss, but somehow my pain has sneaked in there to.
You meet my glare dead-on. "I said, woman, that you two shouldn't have been together in the first place."
"Who are you pass judgment you stinking...." You stop me with your serious look. Always before you were mocking. Now....now I don't know.
Something is going on here...
I'm out of my depth in the here and now
You seem diferent somehow,
Or am I just seeing it, for the first time...
"He could never have kept up with you for long. Not and survive it."
You sound casual, as if this is a normal conversation for you. Well, maybe it is. I don't exactly know you very well. I know what you project, but the real you could be....
What am I thinking?
Once again I move to leave the room. Your hand on my arm stops me.
"Besides, you need more of challenge."
What is with this situation? Why do I feel as if the world could crumble around me, and it wouldn't matter as long as you're here? What is that look in your eyes? It's almost....soft.
Finally you let me go, and I practically run out of the kitchen, feeling your eyes on me the entire way.
Somehow, I feel as if something big just started to come into being.
I think I hate you
But hate is one of those passion things
Love is separated from it by a paper-thin wall
And guess what
You're drivin' me up that wall...