I hate the way I talk to you whenever I’m nervous because I always babbling so fast that I couldn’t stop.
I hate the way that I never complain about how you drive my car
I hate the way I could never tell how I feel about you and how I feel about myself
I hate it the way I laugh when you’re driving me crazy with all your jokes and every time you win the argument
I hate it when I make you feel bad because I never ask anything from you
I hate it that I’m not as good as you are in anything that I couldn’t mention
I hate the way I say “always” whenever you say “forever”
I hate the way I can’t stop smiling every time I see your face
I hate it when I make you cry; even worse knowing the fact that I don’t want to hurt you
But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.