Purely I hate, that's how much I love you. I hate the long waits just to see you again, the gentle lowveld breeze that covers your skin in the summer, the voice of your sound discipline echoing through the room every moment I woke up. I hate that the vividly image of missing you is fading away slightly. I hate the faint image of your smile, I can hardly grasp. I hate that I'm beginning to forget the sweetness of your voice. I hate purely, so much so it's an act of Love. MoM