Je t'aime.
I love you yet I hate you.
I'm barely finished with that heart-wrenching 'Tyler' chapter
the one that slowly and pathetically consumed my life...
the one that had as much point as banging my head on a wall.
Out he walks--
he 'remembered' but now I choose to forget.
In you saunter,
bombarding my fragile emotions
knocking me over with a cyclone of friendliness and false "I love you"s,
screwing up my sense of direction
lifting my up in a great bear hug.

Je t'aime.
You're just like him and it kills me
to think what I've got in for me again.
It makes me want to avoid you, maybe totally kick you to the side.
I wish I'd never met you.
You're the guy who I think I love
who I expose my big ole emo heart for
but who takes my honest professions for granted.
The truth will never dawn on you
and so I really don't get why I even bother
except that you're so like him--
though I know it's an ugly, possibly fatal trap
and I know your 'type', you flirtatious player, you.

Je t'aime.
I'll be ultimately bruised like an overripe, neglected fruit in the end...
a sacrifice that was almost definitely never woth taking.