THEORY: How Can I Hate You

You know what, I hate you so much.

I hate that you make feel like I am the prettiest girl in the world by choosing to be with me over all the other ones around. You didn't tell me I was beautiful as much as I would've liked, since I fantasize life to be like the movies where the actor is just mesmerized by his leading lady every second of the day, but I didn't really mind that. I actually liked that you reminded me that I was pretty from time to time, even without saying it.

I hate that you make me feel like I am the smartest person you know. I hate that you value what I thought and what I had to say. How you would come to me when you had questions like you knew I always had the answers... even if I didn't. I didn't actually mind when you went for the option I didn't choose, the fact that you always think of consulting me, of including me in the planning, is already very special to me.

I hate that you make me feel like I am so awesome to be around. I hate that you make me feel that I am someone you can sit around and do nothing with. How you make me feel that the activity is not as important as the person you're with, for you to have a great time. How you make me feel I am that interesting, that funny, that special to make another person happy.

I knew I was really none of those things. That I was never the prettiest, smartest or awesomest person in the world, and I was okay with that. But you had to be so mean to break the illusion you created. I mean, you made me feel like I was pretty and smart and awesome and now, the same person who made me believe in something that wasn't really true, is breaking the news that the fantasy is over. That there really is someone pretty, smart and awesome out there who doesn't need an illusion to feel like she is all those things.

I hate you so much right now... but then again, I couldn't hate anyone for telling the truth.

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