You know, the thing that makes me feel guilty the most
is that some moments later, after the fights and the yelling ceased,
and I made up some imaginary scenario in my head,
in which I screamed at him and cursed with the most evil and dirtiest words I had ever known,
in which I wanted him to say sorry for hurting and ruining people he wasn’t supposed to hurt and ruin,
I still couldn’t bring myself to hate him
because there was still some parts of me that remembered what he used to be years ago
back when he was still smiling and carrying me on his back
but he wouldn’t have known that I didn’t hate him, would he?
Because I had said wicked words to him and I had shouted bad things to him,
so he would thought that I loathed him for all he had done
and I would be hating myself for letting him feel so,
since none of us would say anything to each other
because these are just some words I only have the courage to write.