I hate the woman in front of me.

I hate her for the simple reason that she cannot help herself, and this she knows very well.
She is unable to concentrate and prioritize on what is important.
Instead, she just daydreams, and mystifies reality.
No one can help her, only herself.
And yet she continually looks for an easy way out.
She is incredibly stubborn.

If only she can stop daydreaming, I might hate her less.
If only she stops searching, I might begin to love her.
And if only she allows for the pain to bleed out, I might understand her.

I hate the woman in front of me because I can't get away from her.
She is in every mirror, every smile, and every corner.
Her dark eyes haunt me, and plead for me to understand her.

If only I accept the woman in front of me, I might begin to understand myself.
And accept that it was the woman in front of me who chose to leave him,

so that she could begin to love herself.