I hate my boyfriend for things I know he probably didn’t do.
Every time he’s not with me, I assume he’s off f*cking another girl. And sometimes I think maybe I want to hate him. Maybe hating him so much is what makes me love him so much.
Sometimes, I think I want to find out that he f*cked another girl, just so I can be the victim and make his life a living hell. So that I can have a reason to feel like he’s hurt me.
But god, I’d kill myself…
