I hate being in love. I hate feeling so happy when I meet you. Smiling shyly, awkwardly, with my heart beating so fast, cold hands, and cold sweat on my back. I hate being next to you, looking for a million sentences to make you laugh and smile.
I hate reading your messages in my inbox. I hate the way I need so much time to reply, erasing it over and over again, thinking about it word by word. I hate falling in love, all the details I say, write, and send to you becomes so important. I hate being in this position but I just can’t help it, can’t I?
I hate thinking about you before I sleep and feeling something move inside my heart, spreading all over my body, making me feel so anxious. I hate spending an entire night just thinking about you.
I hate imagining how your face looks like right now, how you smile, what you’re doing… I hate being so worried when I know you caught a cold…
I hate liking you. Because I’d have to look for small mistakes in you. Mistakes that I look for desperately because I’d hate to know that you could be perfect, you could be flawless, and that I might have fallen for you…
I hate being in love, especially to you. Because in this overwhelming feeling, behind the urge to be with you, my heart struggles and explodes slowly.
