Apparently writing down all the things I hate about you is supposed to help me get over you, but I'm not so sure it'll work because everything I hated about you was also everything I loved about you. And I hated how you even made me think of the word love even if it wasn't literally toward you. That doesn't really make sense but then again, neither did you, and neither do I, or anything really.
I loved how different we were because it meant things never got boring but I also hated how we never had anything in common and couldn't agree on anything half the time. Sometimes I wished you were someone else but then I would take that wish back because who knows how things would have been if you weren't you? I once told you about an asshole that made me upset and you said you would beat him up for me. It was really cute because we both knew you wouldn't even win in a fight against me. I loved how carefree you were. I never once saw you mad. It was probably my favorite thing about you, I wish I could've been more like you in that sense. But at the same time I hated how you didn't seem to care about anything at all, because did you even care about me?
You must have cared because you always picked up the phone when I called you, even at 2 in the morning, whether you were asleep or had an exam the next day. You were always the person I called at odd hours because you never questioned it. You never asked me why I called. You never asked me why I wasn't asleep yet. You didn't think it was weird when as soon as you picked up, before you could even say hi, I would ask you to tell me a story or tell me every single detail of your day. You would just start and you would keep going until I finally laughed. You knew I needed you as a distraction and you didn't even mind being used that way.
I loved how you always said my name, the way you just slipped it onto the end of sentences and questions. I didn't know I could fall in love with the way my name sounds coming out of someone's mouth and even now, I haven't found anyone that says it better than you. I remember when you called me the first time you ever got drunk and you kept saying my name over and over. In that moment, I could've sworn I was in love. But I also hated it because it was like you were making me out to be something I wasn't. I couldn't possibly be as perfect as you made my name sound.
It was like you could always tell what my mood was and you adjusted yourself to fit my mood. I loved how you understood when I didn't want to talk about some things and you would never push me to, you would just change the subject. Sure, that was what I wanted most of the time, but I hated that you didn't know that sometimes even when I don't want to talk about it, I actually do, and all I wanted was for you to hug me and tell me it'll be alright even if I would never believe it.
I came to work once after a night of crying and I think I covered it up pretty well with makeup but you saw through it as soon as you saw me. You were asking me what was wrong before I even fully stood in front of you. And you said I looked sad but at the time you didn't know that I was always fucking sad. You were the only person that day to see through my smile. I think you came closest to understanding me and that terrified me because I couldn't understand myself and I don't know if I want to.
I still remember when you told me that you were holding me back. You said it as a joke but I think we both felt the truth behind it. I loved that you wanted what was best for me but I hate how you didn't even try to make me stay. I probably wouldn't have and it would've never worked between us even if I did but fuck I really wanted you to ask me to stay. Even if it broke you, I wanted to feel that you wanted me. I'm really sorry for how selfish I am.
But maybe you didn't really want me because you couldn't handle it. Because we both knew on those nights I called you at 2 in the morning, no matter how long you stayed on the phone with me and how much you made me laugh, I would still be crying myself to sleep when I hung up. How could you have thought that you were holding me back when I haven't even figured out where the fuck I'm going? Or maybe you did mind being my distraction because I couldn't even figure out how I felt. Or maybe you knew I could never give you what a normal person deserved and maybe you figured out just how fucked up I am.
I don't even know what this is anymore. I was supposed to write about the things I hate about you but all I can think about is how much I hate myself and all the ways I hurt you when all I wanted was to stop myself from hurting. I once read something that said "you're not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness" so can you forgive me if you were the way I tried to kill my sadness? I'm sorry I tried to use you the same way I used the bottles and the bongs. I mean, even now, I can't tell if I actually liked you or if I just liked how you made me feel not so dead inside for a while. Sometimes I wonder if there's a difference between the two and if it even matters. But then again, I often wonder if anything fucking matters.
And I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I came back to town like I said I would but the truth is I wasn't sure if I wanted to see you or not. You were never a permanent cure, you were just a temporary painkiller and the crash when you wore off just added to everything else. That's why I didn't want to get close to you in the first place and that's why I hate you so fucking much. But I also can't.
And I still see you all the time in people that don't even look anything like you. I saw a man running across the street today and I swear to God I thought it was you but when I got closer I realized the man was probably at least 40. In crowded places I look for you and it makes me think of the time we went to a festival and you brought me home at 1:30 in the morning and fuck I wish you had kissed me. But then again, I don't think either of us would have been able to handle the consequence of that.
I don't know how to end this, just like I didn't know how to say goodbye, which by the way, I am also sorry for. Even now, I am still wrapping my head around why we had to say goodbye. Because if circumstances had been different, if I was fucking different, maybe we could still be friends. Maybe we could have even worked out as more. Who fucking knows now? I shouldn't have gotten mad for no reason and walked away like that but how else was I supposed to leave without crying? God only knows I would hate you even more if you ever saw me cry.