I hate how he makes me go to sleep when I’m tired. How he makes everything right, how he makes everything good. I hate how he tries his best to cheer me up, how he encourages me, how he comforts me. I hate how he doesn’t like ice cream and how he hates vegetables, how he loathes reading and how he’s terrible at making coffee.
I hate how he lights up my life, how he makes my days brighter and my nights warmer. I hate how he made all the other guys irrelevant that I carelessly cut loose from them. I hate how he gets me into so many levels all at once, our connection is undeniable. I hate how he immediately captured my heart, how fast he was able to see through me, how quickly he figured me out. I hate how he counts when he asks me to do something. I hate how he loves math. And physics. And every other subject I have been ignoring all my life.
I hate how we match so perfectly like heaven fated us to be together. I hate how he made me believe in love again, how he is my soul mate, how he makes me so grateful every day. I hate how he asks the stupidest questions, how he’s annoyingly stubborn, how he doesn’t get my jokes.
I hate how he’s so mean to people, how he teases me, how he calls me a loser. I hate how he cares for me, how he cares about me, how he makes me feel so safe. I hate his corniest jokes, his meanest comments, his craziest ideas. I hate how he doesn’t remember and how he makes me forget. I hate how he makes my head so busy, how he makes me dance, how he makes me inexhaustibly happy. I hate how beauteous he is, how charming and adorable he could be. He is so beautiful.
I hate how he makes my life feel unmistakably luminous and sound, how he makes all the enigmatic things so rational, how he makes all the puzzle pieces fit together. I hate how he accepts my insanity and derangement, how he discloses to me even the most surreptitious things, how he loves me without bounds. I hate how he tirelessly answers the never-ending question “Do you love me?” with an exhilarating “Yes, I love you very much.” I hate how he dreams with me and how he made my dreams come true. I hate how he laughs at me and how he laughs with me.
I hate how we understand each other so deeply, I could drown. I hate how he keeps my head off things, how he always chooses me, how he always lets me win. I hate how he makes my head spin, how he makes my heart race, and how he makes my feet leave the ground. I hate how he makes me float on the clouds. I hate how he makes my heart beat so fast and so slow at the same time, how he makes me worry, how he makes me mad, how he makes me so scared.
I hate our differences. I hate how he makes me rhyme, how he makes me sing, how he makes me write again. I hate how he tells me I’m perfect for him, how he loves me so much, how I am his baby girl. I hate how he spoils me, how he reminds me every day, how he wants nothing but the best for me. I hate how I am his only exception, how he makes me feel so loved. I hate how he is my only reason, how he made null the theories I believed in. I just hate how he is.
I hate how he obliterated my animosity. I hate his lamest excuses and justifications. I hate how enchanting and fascinating he gets and how he makes the world enthralling. I hate all his weaknesses and strengths. I hate how despite his shortcomings, he still is the synopsis of perfection. I hate how he makes shiny and sunlit the dull and overcast, how he makes close by the distant and far, how he makes serene the desolate and gloomy and how he makes even the shattered whole again.
I hate how he makes me love him, how he lights up my life, how he means the world to me.
I hate the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches. I hate all his quirks, all his actions, and him entirely and altogether. I hate him. I hate him so much, ugh.