I hate when I think I'm fine with something. I mean, I'm certainly not great with it, but fine. Then whatever it is comes crashing up to meet me and I realize that while I was fine with it at a distance, I'm not when it's up close.

That probably makes no sense. Right now I don't care.

I hate feeling like my heart is in my throat and that its being slowly pushed up into my mouth where I know it will break. The taste of my heart's blood choking me and slowly suffocating me.

I hate when it's all in my mind, but my mind affects my body, so when I'm upset I feel shaky and ill.

I hate worrying about myself and feeling confused and crushed and irrational.

I hate being so affected by another person.

Most of all, I hate the little part of myself that is laughing at me, because she can see the bigger picture and she knows that I'm being overly dramatic and one day none of any of this will matter. I hate her. I hate myself.