I'd Rather Hurt Than Feel Nothing at All

Every once in a while I'll think about it. I know I forbade myself from focusing on something so destructive, but it's taken over my mind. It's like an infection with no antibiotic, a tumor unaffected by radiation and chemo, traveling throughout my body, infecting my blood. This thing that I want to call hate, but maybe it's pain, is incapacitating. It's controlling me, turning me into someone who doubts everything. Why is everyone staring at me? They're not. I just think they are. Oh, this person is being nice to me, but clearly isn't thinking nice things about me. What's wrong with me? Am I defective? Am I incapable of being desirable? Is there something in my face that begs to be lied to, to be hurt, to be cheated out of happiness? Is there something he found inside of my heart that I so willingly relinquished not once, not twice, but all three times he left, that told him it was okay to share his love with another woman? 2 1/2 years ago and I am just now finding out, but I think I knew all along. Everything I was going through for him was a waste of time. My mother is right about him, but what can I do about it now? We have a child together, and the years of hurt and anguish he has inflicted upon me will never fade, no matter how right he thinks things are. I will always have this hatred for him, coupled with an impossible, desperate, starving love for him that will also never fade. I'm imprisoned by my own heart. My own heart has betrayed me.