In, too deep series.

In order not to hate you, I need to love myself again.

I am learning to take breaks, in between the dips of my relationship with you.

You see, at the start of a connection, I usually jump in too deep, swimming into the waves of our personalities, that boundaries start fading with each common interest we endure. 

We begin flowing with each other, to a point where the shore’s existence seems too unnecessary, as safety beholds in our presence.

Our worlds get interconnected at our own seas, octopuses perceive our eight limbs as a threat to its survival.

We merge together, as the connection raises its roof, and have us drowning into each other, begging for some air. 

In order not to hate you, I need to love myself again.

In order not to hate you, I need to take easy breaths again.

I order not to hate you, I need to hate you, until I love you again.