I hate that you left me this goddamn letter sitting on my passenger seat…on our last night together.
I hate that it nearly moved me to tears.
I hate how it inspired me to write this post.
I hate how full of emotion I am right now.
I hate how I was the exception. The one that stood out. The one who challenged you, and caught you. Frankly, neither of us got what we thought we would.
I hate how you baked me apple pies and cinnamon bread and won my whole office over.
I hate how you always wear skirts and dresses because you know I like them.
I hate the way your eyes light up when we jump in that car.
I hate that you tell me I don’t live in reality.
I hate that you were so easy-going, and so unwilling to get wrapped up in drama and jealousy.
I hate that you encourage me to reach for the stars but also keep me on my feet on Earth when it needs to be said.
I hate that you drew me in enough that I wanted to bring flowers to you through your drive-thru on your last day of work.
I hate that you’re able to recount all of the things I told you we would never discuss again.
I hate that you actually seemed to appreciate the nice things I did, and paid them in kind.
I hate that I was so excited to give you those birthday presents.
I hate that you see past my somewhat narcissistic and jaded outlook and call me a sweet guy.
I hate that you talk about a possible future between us…
I really, really hate that you gave me this letter.
I hate that I hate so much. I want to open up and share all, but just can’t. You’d understand what I really mean by this entire post. I guess I’m trying to say is I’m saddened that I am so guarded. That I am not willing to open up my heart just yet.
Most of all, I hate that it just wasn’t the right timing for us.
I’ll miss you, LR.