I hate the way that you left me,
abruptly, and without warning.
I hate how the last words you said to me were the best,
“I love you, too,” you said into my embrace.
I hate that I’m in shambles now,
that after all this time
you’re still on my mind.
You’ve relentlessly made your home in my bones.
I hate how I see you
without ever meaning to,
like passing by a store window and catching my reflection.
I hate that I thought you were so perfect.
You don’t understand how hard I tried.
I TRIED SO HARD TO BE GOOD FOR YOU,
to be good enough…

I can’t listen to the mixed CDs,
and I hate the matching outfits
and the love letters
and all the god forsaken memories.

I hate myself most because
I can’t find it in me to hate you.

I still hope good things for you.