Monday, March 25, 2013


I hate you. Rather, I abhor every inch of your presence. Your smile, laugh, sighs - everything. Every bit of you is intoxicating, and I'm the fool who gets drunk. Once you're gone I'm left drowning in my own self-pity and begging for you to return. I'm pathetic when you're around, and a desperate fool when you aren't around.

Although I say I hate you, doesn't this just sound like the complete opposite?

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