The slamming of the door, your hurtful words echoing in my ears and my rough throat chafing from screaming matches that last for hours. The tightness in my chest as we both turn into monsters we don’t recognize. Your tears that I ignore because I am still seeing red everywhere. We hurl so much shit against each other, it’s hard to believe the words “I love you” come from the same lips.
During less tumultuous moments, we talk. I say how it pushes me over the edge when my pleas for silence are ignored, and how I mean it when I say that I need a few hours alone to calm down first. I vow once more never to use your secrets to deliberately hurt you. You promise to stop bringing up past mistakes and pushing me towards a confrontation. We communicate.
But we fail a lot of times and…
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