If you wanted me to hate you then you got your wish. I fucking hate you. Every single self-absorbed, douchebag piece. I could deal with your mountains of insecurities, hell I could deal with the mean and cutting words but lying is one thing I can never put up with. Especially people who can look another person in the eye and just lie.
I guess the worst part is I believed you. You fucked me and then you fucked me over. So congratulations I hate you. I know this is what you wanted. Why anyone would ever want someone to hate them is beyond me but it’s exactly what you wished for.
So I’ll give it to you. Anger is a secondary emotion to hurt but I will never admit that you hurt me. My pride is too strong for that. You have managed to take pieces of me that I thought I had healed. I know no one can control your self-esteem or self-love but when someone is constantly telling you all of your shortcomings, tell me then how easy it is to not give into their words and judgements.
And my friends warned me but I was so blinded by charm to see what the fuck you were. A serpent. A disgusting snake. The worst kind of human. And you knew how to play me so well. You played into my need to give and knew that I would want to heal you. I should have been tough enough, smart enough to see that.
My faults were being naïve. Naïve and stupid. Stupid enough to believe that you had one good bone in your body. Your mind is vicious and your heart is completely fucked up. But your soul, your soul is made up of pure hatred. Because no one who knows what love is could ever treat any other human being the way you do.
And I know I’m not the only casualty of your cruelness. I’m not the only one you destroyed on your path to your self-fulfilling prophecy. The one where you convince and tell yourself that you are a good person. You’re not a good person.
Good people don’t make others feel less than. They don’t control them with horrible words or extort their insecurities. Good people love people in abundance regardless of their shortcomings. Regardless of if they measure up to some unimaginable standard you made up in your head. But loving other people would mean that you would have to love yourself.
And it’s clear you don’t. And my dear no matter how much I hate you, it’s nowhere near how much you hate yourself. So for that I pity you. I feel bad for you. Because love is so much better than hatred. Hating yourself is only going to leave you feeling empty and lonely. And that vacant feeling you have in your heart is going to stay. Don’t ever think that because some else is warming the other side of your bed from time to time that you aren’t completely and utterly alone.
Hate is a waste of an emotion but I feel it pump through my veins when I see your name. But this is when I let that go. Because hating you for the rest of my life would only harm me. And I love me more than I hate you.