Hate You

January 3, 2011
As I sat there and stared at my phone, I felt sick. You had just texted me “We need to talk; I’ll be over in 15minutes.” That was 10 minutes ago. I was worried about what you had to tell me, that you thought I had cheated on you (which I haven’t), that you were moving, or worst of all, that you were breaking up with me. As those thoughts ran through my head, I gripped my blue smartphone and rocked back and forth on my bed. Before you had sent me that message, I thought our relationship was amazing. We could be so fun or serious with each other, I felt we had a spike in our romance, but maybe you hadn’t. I closed my eyes as I tried to clear my nervous thoughts. The doorbell rang, you were 3 minutes early.
Downstairs, I take a deep breath before I grip the door handle and open it. There you were, your hands stuffed into your jean pockets, and your brown hair a mess. “Hey,” you said with a small smile on your face that vanished in a second. I smiled, too weak to speak. “Can we talk outside,”you asked stepping towards the bench on my front porch. I nodded as I walked outside. I felt like my legs were about to collapse under me, but I continued standing. We were silent for a moment, and you seemed to be struggling for words to say. “Umm…” you stuttered, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets. “Uh…, I’m really not sure how to say this.” My stomach started flip flopping as you said that. “There is no easy way to say this, but I need to tell you something. I need to tell you, that…,” you stood there, then you collapsed onto the bench and put your head in your hands. If you didn’t have something bad to tell me and you were sitting on that bench like that, I would have sat next to you and hugged you, but I couldn’t do that now.
“Please just tell me,” I said weakly, I needed to know before I passed out from my nerves. You looked at me with your dark eyes, that I rarely saw sad and cloudy.
“I can’t do this, I can’t date you, I can’t love you. I’m sorry, but I can’t, I just can’t.” You said as you stood up with your eyes dark.
I fall onto the bench as tears stream down my cheeks. I bury my head deep into my hands. You just stand there, I wish you would put your arms around me, but I know you can’t. “I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically, you are sympathetic, I’m angry.
“Just get out, leave, I never want to see you again, ever!” I yell at you through my sobs. I hear you try to apologize again, but you stop yourself. I hear you shuffle off, but I don’t care. I just sit there, crying, crying, and crying. I hate you, and I never want to see you again, I hate you.





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