I hate myself for saying "I love you" back. I don't know if you ever meant it, and I still don't know if I meant it or not. I don't know if love is anything more than lust.

I hate that I don't want to be in a relationship with anyone anymore. If you could leave me without any warning, when I thought things were so good, then why wouldn't it happen again?

Most days, I am glad we don't talk anymore, and I never want to see you again. Ever. I'm not sure what I would do if I saw you -- I think I would burst into tears. It's easier pretending you don't exist. Most days...

Most of all, I hate that I still love you, after everything we said and did to hurt each other.