“
I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the
way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb
combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes
me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you’re always
right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even
worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the
fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”
