Fuck you. Yes, fuck you.
I really wonder what’s inside of your head. Like, does everything I’ve done in the past matter to you? No wait, do you even remember anything I’ve done? Do you know how many countless nights I’ve been up crying and cutting because of how oblivious you are of me and how you just take my care for granted?
I swear, sometimes it’s like you want me to hate you. I try really hard to hate you, but there’s just something that stops me from it. And I hate myself for not hating you.