The only thing worse than a boy who hates you, a boy who loves you. So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out? Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. I ought to have been prepared for this. He made me love him without looking at me. I wish I hated him. I do, you frustrate me, confuse me, infuriate me, more than anyone I've ever met. Learning to ignore it will teach you humility. When we first met you seemed fickle and shallow. And that cute, charming little smirk with its tendency to make the person it's directed at grin a little too? Don't even try, I hate that too. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. The thing is - and I know this is going to sound strange – that I seem to love you sort of desperately. I feel like finally, there's time to breathe. Can we go back to hating each other now?