I am the most fucking pathetic person I know. Love is wrong, love is a sin because it causes a feeling worse than anything in the world. This should have ended two years ago, before it even began. I can’t explain what’s going on inside of me, I can’t explain the never-ending depression that consumes me. I can’t explain how hopeless and how helpless I feel when I think about your future or OUR future and the lack there of. I can’t explain why I do the things I do. I don’t fucking know why I wake only to your calls, and why I’m willing to jump to my feet and run to you, only to carry you home after a night of fun and love and happiness that you had with her. I hate the way you talk about her and I hate the way you talk about me. I hate the way we argue about every little thing and how you think I pick fights because I’m young. I hate the way you don’t realize what’s going on inside of me, and how you’re entirely clueless to the pain you cause me. I hate how when I’m around you, I constantly embarrass myself with the inability to take my eyes off of you; literally. I hate how I subconsciously save all the little messages you send me, just to read them again in the future and satisfy the little part of me that HOPES you will come back. I hate how when I lay in your bed, I can’t think about the moment. I can’t think about you sitting in front of me or the stupid documentary you’re watching on TV: All I can think about is how you used to hold me and touch my face, my hands. I can’t help but picture all the times we lay there together and I was safe and warm in your arms. I hate how I can’t be happy around you anymore because I know that nothing that happens now will compare to then. I hate how comfortable I’ve become with hiding all of my thoughts. I hate how hard it is to physically and mentally prepare myself for each day, each morning, knowing that you won’t be around. I hate how easy it’s become to smile and pretend it’s just another day for me, when it’s not. But most of all, I hate how none of this phases me enough to let you go. I wish I could let you go, I do. For the sake of you, for the sake of me, for the sake of us, for the sake of her. I know that life without you would be better. I know that life without you would be easier. I know that life without you would be real life, real happiness, real fun, real satisfaction, real everything. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to live a moment without you. I don’t want to keep fucking typing this about you, I hate you. I hate how in love with you I am.