To you,

If I could only tell you. I will tell you how mad I am that I can not be mad. I hope I can be like those women, like some friends I have that can just move on with their lives. or just be a natural feminist. or just be strong. but I can't.

I am mad that all the obvious becomes complicated. That knowing you are around, looking, means completely the opposite of what you think it means. I am mad that you know how this anxiety kills me, this that you are causing. And you still do it.

If I can only tell you, I will tell you many lies, or one.

I would tell you sorry, for not being a regular open minded woman. and just a simple me.

I would try to be with you imagining that trust exist.

I would pretend that 'i love you' and 'having love for me' are the same thing.

But I can't do any of those things. not anymore. And I know you'll never listen even if I say this to you.

The cycle of control has to end somehow. I hope I can find my way out.