There Are Many Things I Hate About You

There are so many things I hate about you.
I hate the way you say my name when you're annoyed.
You don't say it mean or anything, just annoyed like you're teasing me.
I hate it.
I hate it when you scream at me and tell me you're not worth it.
I hate it when you show up at the house drunk and crying because you got into another fight.
I hate it when you hug me and beg me to tell you that you will be fine.
I hate it when you can't sleep and crawl out of bed and stomp down the hall, waking me up, and fool around on your drums until you feel you’ve had enough.
I hate your insomnia.
I hate them.
I hate them for making you cry and making you think you're not worthy of love.
I hate them for attempting to destroy you.
I hate it when you go through my things.
I hate it when you flip open a random notebook and start reading what I scribbled out in
the dark.
If I wanted to share this with you then I would.
But at the end of each day I can’t not smile and think to myself how much I would hate not being with you.