Words Hurt

You said some really terrible things tonight. I'm trying to believe that you didn't mean for them to be so horrible, but they sounded pretty horrible.

You said NOW I look beautiful.
You said don't gain all that weight back.

You said I look so pretty now.

Now you want to put up pictures of me in your cubicle at work. 

You said NOW men will want to come sweep me off my feet.

I'm trying to believe that you meant to say you are so proud of me for my hard work. Or that you think I look great. Period. Not great compared to how I used to look. I look great period. I was still pretty before. I radiate now. I know. 

But your words came out quantified, like compared to before when I was fat and ugly. (I wasn't fat and ugly. I was beautiful before, too.)

You said don't go back to how I was. No one plans to get fat and gain weight (again). It's not healthy. Everyone knows that. We would all choose healthy, vibrant lives for ourselves if we could. Life isn't always easy. 

I'm afraid to tell you how your words hurt me. I'm afraid that you won't understand. Does that mean I shouldn't tell you how hurt I am? I'd like to believe that because you love me you would want to try to change, but for as long as I've known you this is how you've been. Will you ever change? 

Your love has always felt conditional. That is why we can never be as close as I'd like for us to be, perhaps as close as you'd like us to be. But I have a right to keep myself safe and being close to you doesn't feel safe. 

Why do the ones we loves the most also hurt us the most?