Wicked Wednesday: A flourish of hate

It’s the editor in me that has to go searching for the dictionary when a prompt has two words that feel like they don’t usually go together – I have to know *why* they don’t collocate.

So, here’s the definition of flourish:


bold or extravagant gesture or action, made especially to attract attentionwith a flourish, she ushered them inside

For me, that means that hate and flourish kind of do work together: I’m guilty far more often of making bold gestures of hate to attract attention than I am of affection or love.

When I’m furious with him, for example, and I phone him and call him all the names I can:

Cunt. Arsehole. Bastard. Idiot.

I want to hurt him the same way he’s made me hurt, but more than that I do it because I want him to feel *my* pain: I don’t want the fact that I’m suffering to go unnoticed. I don’t even necessarily want an explanation, an apology or a promise that things will be different in future. I just want him to feel shit too.

I’m a bitch, right?