The voice softened, almost tender now, though its presence still felt oppressive. "Then learn. Pain is not a burden to be carried alone. Let it teach you, let it guide you. Continue to suffer."
Something inside me snapped. "I don't want this!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the empty room. My breathing was ragged, my chest heaving as the anger surged forward, unstoppable. "I hate this feeling. I hate that I'm in pain. I hate that I'm stuck in this endless cycle, being used, being discarded!"
The words spilled out of me, raw and unfiltered, like a dam breaking. "I hate that... I fell for her. I hate that I loved her. I hate her!"
The silence that followed was deafening, pressing against my ears and chest, threatening to suffocate me. My confession hung in the air, a jagged wound I had torn open myself.
And yet, as the anger ebbed, something else rose in its place. Guilt. Regret. The bitter taste of self-loathing.