momo

<--this is the unadulterated unicorn joy they massacre for your trendy starbucks frappés

momo has adored me since my first adult boy hair cut.  for no reason. he just likes my face. weirdly, he's also enthused when my face isn't trying.

i deeply resent this because i deeply resent myself.

also, i figured it would fizzle out.

but puppy aeons later, he's still maddeningly sweet to me

it makes me want to seizure like a freshly drenched cat who's particularly unfriendly (even by cat standards)

lately i've almost been able to reciprocate a modicum of affection and kindness

and i had the odd thought that... liking momo more must mean... i... like myself more too

i quickly hissed at this idea, in my car, alone, like a normal person

the funny thing is,

momo is shy and insecure despite looking like the orgiastic love child of a clown, a rainbow and that happy place trauma victims go to when they leave their bodies

i like (and he likes) another picture better but he's not ready to share yet

i like that he says yet

it's aspirational

hiss

---

They convinced me that rejecting them was self hatred.

They persistently pursued me when I was uncomfortable.

They made my discomfort the problem.

I thought I was safe. I hate me so you can't hate me. I think like a broken person.

After what they did, now I think how can I hate me as much as I hate them.

And maybe I'll be free of that. Maybe I'll love me one day.