There are so many things I wish I could say to you. There are so many questions in my head that I wish I could ask, but honestly don't want to know the answers to. I wonder how you can still smile at me knowing that I'm hurting inside because of you. I wonder how you can act as if everything is fine when you know it's not. I don't know if I should blame you for making me fall for you, or blame myself for not protecting my heart. Regardless, it happened, and I'm dealing with it but everyday is different. There are days where I want to hug you and tell you I miss you, and then there are days I wish I could block you from my phone- but I don't have the strength to do either of those things. Reality is, I don't hate you. I just hate that I kind of love you.

I don't know what I hate more though: the fact that I want to talk to you, or the fact that I don't. It's as if my mind is in a constant battle with itself. The devil is telling me to let you in, but the angel is telling me to walk away. Some days I wake up confident that I'm going to forget about you, but that changes as soon as your name pops up on my phone. I tell myself that I'm strong enough to walk away, but I also tell myself that I don't want to. I hate that you make me feel this way, and myself for allowing it.

I hate that you have this control over me- almost as if you know my every move. It's almost like you know when I'm ready to move on, and that's when you pull me back in. Every time I take a step forward, you make me take three back. It always comes back to you, no matter what. You hurt me, and I forgive you over and over again, and I hate it.

I hate that you don't see what you do to me, and I hate that it's because I'm scared to let you. I hate that I'm scared to tell you how I feel because you'll walk way, even though I know that is what's best for me. I hide my feelings often to spare yours, and I lie to you when you ask me what's wrong because I don't know how to tell you how I feel. When you're not around, it's much easier to think. But when you're right in front of me, it all fades away like it was never there to begin with. I hate that, so much.

I hate that you make me laugh, and I hate that you make me cry. But I hate it even more that you probably don't even know I've cried. I hate that I fake a smile and pretend everything is okay when it's not, but I do it for you. In fact I do so much for you, but you don't notice. You don't notice because I'm a second prioroity, and I hate that I'm somehow okay with that.

I hate that you're going to read this, and I hate that it's not going to change a thing. Because despite my efforts, I'll never be able to have you how I want you. I really hate that I have to write about you to make myself feel better, and I hate that it works. I hate that it took me saying all of this to realize that I finally figured out what I want to do, and I hate that I have to do it.

I hate that I have to walk away. I hate that it's so unfair what you did, but I hate that I'm not mad at you for it, either. I hate that you know how you feel about me, but you do nothing about it. I hate that you make me so happy and I hate that I have to let that go. I hate that I'm going to miss you and I hate that I have too. But more than anything, I hate that I don't hate you. I hate that I don't "kinda" love you. I hate that I love you, and I hate that you don't know that.