I hate that I think about you every day and you don’t think about me at all. I hate that you made me think I ever had a chance with you. I hate that you told me you liked me but you didn’t know if you actually wanted anything with me. I hate it because I would never do that to you. I give you so many chances and every time you break my heart. I hate that I can’t stop myself from forgiving you just incase you have finally changed. I guess I just hate that I don’t hate you and I don’t think I ever will.