The More Loving One

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it if stars were to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

– W. H. Auden

This poem is wonderful. And it describes my situation so perfectly: I feel so much hate for you now, but how can that be any better than what you are doing to me or have done to me? I’ll have to learn to accept you for what you are, try to be as kind as possible. If you cannot be the nice or caring one, let it be me then.