Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Baby: The Hate-Filled Moniker

I can't possibly begin to describe the disgust that flows through me upon the utterance of the nickname, Baby. It drives me absolutely insane. I detest it with every ounce of my being. Its meaning bears nothing but shame and bitter memories that have plagued me far too long. A cover-up of sorts, used only by the people that have hurt me most. Generally speaking, said only to make a sickening act of disloyalty seem superfluous. Though in reality, it only aided in strengthening the blow. When spoken in reference to me, I cannot help but to hold back not only tears of frustration and guilt, but also my gag reflex. It serves not as an endearing moniker (as per its definition), but as a kind of time machine, dredging up the memories that I spent far too long ignoring. With its every use, I think back to the instances of guilt and displeasure---to the days when I was entirely too lenient with my trust and too forthcoming with my love. It acts as a constant reminder that I was once a fool---that I gave far too many unwarranted second, third, fourth, and fifth chances to those who had never even deserved one.

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