I hate the way you stare, blankly at me. I hate the way you smile at me. I hate your dimples, and i hate your eyes. I hate your uneasiness towards life. I hate how you’re do damn difficult. I hate that I spoil you, but i hate that you made promises to do so back, but all I got was this stupid t-shirt. I hate that you want to want me, but you don’t want me like i want you. i hate your fucking hands and the way our fingers fit like puzzle pieces… the kind that don’t match… that look like they do. i hate your small talk and how you never REALLY have anything to say. I hate being number two when things aren’t difficult, but number one when everything is going to pieces. I hate being the only one that really knows what you want out of life, but what i hate even more is that i hate that you don’t know why i’m saying all these thoughtless, cruel things. i hate everything about you, especially your fucking arms. They reach and pull, but never towards me, and that’s something that i just can’t bare.