One cannot know hate unless one has loved before.
It is a word that contradicts itself.
Yin and yang.
It is not a word I like to use – it takes too much effort.
But I hate you.
I really, really do.
I hate that feeling you give me; I don’t know how to describe it but it is unbearable.
That pain, is unique.
One of its kind.
One that only you can inflict.
The thought of you triggers that emotion.
I hate how my emotions are almost crystal-like in their fragility when it involves you.
Just when I thought I’ve finally gotten over you; you stick your feet back into my path.
And the bloody cycle starts all over again.
I know you are no good, EVERY SINGLE ASPECT OF MY PHYSICAL, PYSCHOLOGICAL self says so.
But like a drug you are just too good to quit.
I thought of running away – I just end up running in circles, back to places where I know I’ll find you.
I tried drowning my phone and killing Facebook but decided against it – I don’t see why I should isolate myself from everyone else because of you.
And so I come back to you.
My hate for you, rose from an unexplainable attraction and love.
I’m beginning to suspect I am masochistic.
I think I keep coming back because I secretly enjoy this torture.
Do I really enjoy this pain you’ve caused me?
Or perhaps I like playing the hapless victim.
I don’t know anymore.