She brings out the worst in me.

Jealousy.

Anger.

Vanity.

Lust for revenge.

Impatience.

Prejudice.

Hatred even.

But I do not wish to be.

Like that girl.

Who screams and wants to trash a world.

That is not her own.

I long for.

The careless one.

Who laughed and did not care.

Not really.

The ability to rationalize.

The choice for impartiality.

Lost.

I want to see pain.

In that nasty face of hers.

That despicable personality.

Not fit to raise children.

Hardly capable of caring.

For anyone but herself.

One word.

For her.

Egotism.

But I do not wish to be.

Like that girl.

Who wants her own sense of justice.

To prevail above karma.

I did.

Take matters into my own.

Poetic justice came for me.

I realize.

No apologies left.

Not anymore.

No patience left.

She has done enough.

But I do not wish to be.

Like that girl.

So close, too close to her.

And her provocative ways.

She will be the end of my laughter.

If I not learn to step back.

Distance.

But I am not an I in this.

There is a We.

An important We.

For whom my stepping back is abandonment.

In an ugly ex-world.

So what now, I ask the mirror?

How to go on.

Without caving in to the worst in me.

Without caring for that which matters.

But I do not wish to be.

Like that girl.

Who lets out the worst in her.

Whenever the Other gives proof of life.