It would be easier if I could hate you. I wish I knew how to hate you. I wish I meant the words and I wish I had more conviction when they fell from my lips.
To hate is to treat that person with spite, to fill your heart with sourness, to live a life that is bitter and angry. And with you, I can’t do that.
It’s hard to hate you because really, I feel bad for you. It must not be easy to push people away constantly, to be someone who sees other people as place-fillers. All of this is only preventing you from realizing that at the root of it all, you’re alone.