Playing Games

We play this game. its called, "I love you, but sometimes I feel like I hate-the-fuck-out of you."

It's the seesaw of our playground. Sometimes I'm up, sometimes you're up. 

I use my force, almost as if to seesaw you right off the damn thing. Like, I could employ all the weight and downward momentum, the advantage of gravity and watch you flip off in stunning acrobatics. 

We play this game of "I want you near, but don't get too close."

You're bound to say something thoughtless or insensitive, and my blood will boil with the fury of a thousand other resentful moments. 

If I could but forgive. Help my unbelief.