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I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

When I saw him, so beat up, I just knew nothing mattered so long as he was okay. Nothing else mattered.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

I was leaving, and he wanted to come. He insisted he would come. I wouldn’t let him, and he got so angry. But I knew, just knew, he would get hurt if he came. I couldn’t let him get hurt, I wouldn’t be able to bear it. So I refused, and locked him in. I didn’t care how angry he was, I just couldn’t let him get hurt.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

He wouldn’t speak to me when I came back. But I expected that, he was angry. I would just let him cool off, then apologize and explain. I hoped he would forgive me.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

I saw him, and knew I had to apologize. I had been feeling so bad for it all. I clenched my hands and prayed he would forgive me. I called his name, and he froze. He didn’t even turn around. I tried to apologize, tried to explain. He wouldn’t believe me, wouldn’t even listen to me.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

Stay away from me!

Now I froze, trying to fight back the tears as he ran off. I couldn’t believe. Not him. That wasn’t him.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

Back in my room, I finally let the tears fall. I pressed one fist to my chest, fighting down sobs. I was sure I could hear a rattle with every heartbeat as the fragments of my broken heart tried to beat as one.

I would rather have him hate me then have him get injured.

I just didn’t know it would hurt so much.