Hate is a strong word.

I hate you. There is no other word for it. I’ve never hated someone before, but you get to change that. You make me sick. I hope you feel a pit in your stomach every time you think of me, one that won’t go away for what seems like days. I want you to regret everything. Every single insignificant thing. But the thing that bothers me the most is that I know you probably don’t feel as much as I do. You don’t feel used and fooled. You don’t feel like you lost the best part of yourself. You don’t feel any of that and you know why? Because I never did those things to you. You caused all this and look who has to deal with it, I do. You’re not even worth my hate. You aren’t worth receiving any type of emotion from me. You aren’t worth anything at all to me.