Self-hatred

It was another small argument you ended up blowing up way out of proportion. It was simple, really. Just getting the wrong brand of tea. But you let it -- goaded it into -- spiraling out of control into another gut wrenching shout match. He was angry - furious even - with you, but you knew that look. Below it was a maelstrom of anxiety. A raging torrent of unease. Clenching your fist, you yelled out.

"Do you want me to leave? Is that it? You hate me that much?" you spit, fury painted across your face. Please say no. Please, please.
"Okayu, for fuck sake! It isn't that big of a deal!" He yelled back in return, anger quickly turning to frustrated exasperation. "Of course I don't want to break up with you!"

Something inside of you deflates as the tension is relieved. Good. Good good good. I'm so sorry, but good. Not letting this reflect on your face, you cross your arms as you look away.

"Then why do you keep doing these things? Making these mistakes and then escalating the situation--"
"What do you mean!? I apologized a dozen times! Every time I did you just kept up the snide remarks about my reliability!"

The anger returns to his face. No, no. No.

"Because it keeps happening! Today it's a small thing, tomorrow it could be something disastrous! It terrifies me to think that you being forgetful could lead to something actually bad! What if you forgot Grandma's medicine one day because you were too busy spacing out?!"

You add more bravado to your voice as your tail shoots up into an agitated point, ears folding back. His anger softens immediately as the scowl dissolves into a concerned frown, and finally into resigned sadness. His eyes look away. You know he would never forget your grandmother's medicine. You know that. He does so much for you, and yet this is how you repay him. You're the worst.

"O-Okayu, please..." He mutters. He looks sincerely hurt. Keeping up this act aches. "I'm really, really sorry. I just...grabbed the wrong box in haste. They were right next to each other. I'll be more attentive next time, I promise, just...please. I can't take this anymore..."

He trails off, still not looking towards you. His shoulders slump, and faintly, you think you can make out moisture in his eyes. He's dropping it. He's resigning. You've made him feel like shit, again. You've made him terrified of you leaving him, again. You've tortured the person who loves you more than anything in the world just because of your own insecurities.

Again.

You did a great job, Okayu. You're a piece of trash. No, trash is more dignified than you. Trash inevitably accepts its place as trash and allows itself to be burned when its time has come. You're more akin to a parasite, writhing its way through this man's heart out of fear of him leaving you. You know he never would. You know he only has eyes for you. So why do you keep doing this?

Because you know he deserves so much better than you. That he could have it, easily, if he would just throw you to the curb like you deserve. All you're doing is making him as horrifically insecure as you are...and you wouldn't wish that on anyone. So why?

"I-It's...it's okay. I'm sorry for getting so angry. You're right...I shouldn't have pressed it so far...I'm sorry."
"Please...can we just...move past it? Please. I'm sorry."
"Yes...yes, let's."

He perks up just the smallest amount, a gentle smile crossing his features despite the tears of anxiety welling up in his eyes. You slowly close the distance between the two of you, leaning into his shoulder in a soft embrace while he clings to you, holding you tight. You begin to weep yourself.

Why can't you just let him be happy? Why do you keep making him so afraid, keeping him in check?

As he tightens the embrace, attempting to comfort you despite everything you've just put him through - everything you have put him through, and everything you know you will continue to put him through because if you stop he'll finally understand just how terrible you really are, you feel your heart crack. You hate yourself more than you can - or care to - quantify. But at least you have him. At least he's still with you. He loves you so much. So, so much, the thought of losing you brings him to tears. Your eyes burn as you weakly hold him in return.

"I'm sorry...please, I'm..."
"Okayu, it's okay...it's over..."

Your weeping turns into sobs as he just holds you. You hate how he's always there for you, despite how you treat him. Always reassuring you that he loves you. That he doesn't think you've gained weight, that you make him happy, that he'd never leave you. You hate it so much.

Just once, if even for a moment, you want him to hate you as much as you hate yourself. But he can't. In that, you are inexorably alone.