I hate the way you look. I hate the way you talk. I hate the way you look when you scheme. I hate the way I feel so unsure around you.
I used to know how I felt, until that day we met in the park. You were a scheming student, crazy from not taking your meds. I was a bitter girl, seeking revenge against my enemies. I actually liked you for a while, I actually enjoyed speaking to you. (Crazy, I know.) Our plans worked, until they didn't. Then I got to know you properly, and realised how much I hated you.
Why is it, when I see you I don't want to punch you? Why do I want to say nice things to you, but cover it up with insults and telling you I despise you?
Do you insult me back, because I insult you? Do you want to say nice things to me? If I did stop insulting you, would it freak you out?
"Dammit.. why did I have to put 'love'? I don't love you!" I said, screw up the note, and adding it to the other crumpled up letters that littered the floor. I began to write another letter.
If I didn't punch you the moment I saw you, would that make me weak? Would it mean I actually LIKE you? I don't think I do, just looking at you makes me angry. I hate you more every single day.
I hate the way you smirk, when you think you're a genius. I hate the way you insult everyone you see. I hate that you are the only person I've got to talk to. I hate how much I look forward to seeing you each day. I hate how much you remind me of me. I hate how hard it is to tell you how I feel..
I groaned with anger, and screwed up the piece of paper. Yet another letter to join the many that littered the floor.
Why is it so damn hard to write you a letter? I'll probably see you at the weekend, when I get back, so why should I frickin' stress so much? I wanted to write you a letter telling you how I feel about you, so here goes!
You are a complete imbecilic moron, who should get a personality transplant. Every time I hear your voice, I pray that I go deaf, so I don't have to hear your whining anymore. No wonder you don't have any friends! I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone, in my entire life. See you around, Moron!
With much hate, Cody.
Why is it easier to write a hate note, than admit that I don't one hundred percent hate him? That will be a question, that I will be asking myself for a long time.
I folded the letter up, and put it in the envelope. The envelope already had a stamp on it, with the address already written. I'll post it first thing tomorrow morning. I left the letter on the desk, as I picked up all the other letter rejects.
When I listed all the things I hated, in one of these letters, I should have added one more. 'I hate the way I think about you, on a week vacation to visit my grandmother.'
I sat down on my bed, holding the notepad and pen. I wondered if he remembered the day we met, like I did. I decided to write one more letter, one I didn't plan to give him for a long time.
On a autumn day, one year after I was expelled, I walked through the park looking for any prep that dared show his face. I saw you skulking around by the gazebo, at first I didn't say a word. You bumped right into me, you didn't apologise. It wouldn't be you, if you did, would it?
"Watch it, Moron!" you yelled at me, raising your fist ready to punch me.
"Well, watch were you're walking, Loser!" yelled back, punching you before you got a chance to hit me.
The look in your eyes excited me, it was like a adrenaline rush. Your eyes were ablaze with malice, hatred and revenge.
You told me about your plan, to take over the school. I was in, from the moment you mentioned revenge on the preps. You had to go back to the school, to make sure your latest plan worked. I wanted to be with you, scheming and ruling the idiots that once laughed at me.
I realise now, that the true loser is me, because I have to hide behind a mask of insults. What happened to us, that now I can't stand to be in the same room as you? What happened to the good old days, when we could spend hours talking, with out exchanging a single insult?
I wish it could be that way again.
All night, I couldn't sleep. All I could think of was which letter to send. As I stood in front of the mail box, a envelope in each hand, I decided to take a chance. I closed my eyes, and randomly posted one of the letters. I got back in the car, and opened the envelope in my hand.
On a autumn day, one year after I was expelled...
I sighed with relief, I didn't have positive feelings for him. For now, you Gary Smith, remain a loser.