50 Things I Hate About You

I hate the way you sometimes get so serious and I feel like a buffoon.
I hate the fact that wherever we are, you're the only one in the room.

I hate that you use "boundaries" as a tool to keep our feelings at bay.
I hate that the way you've always treated male friends is no longer acceptable with me today.

I hate that all I want right now is to be besties and have fun.
But I hate when you give me side hugs,
while that pussy still holds my cum.

I hate the way you touch my chest and play with my "Man Whiskers."
I hate that you no longer laugh at jokes about giving our kids little brothers and sisters.

I hate that I generally appear emotionally unavailable, of this women have made me privy.
But you're my bestie, my love, my everything, and somehow that presents as “clingy.”

I hate the way you treat me differently, and I hate that I understand.
I just hate the way you censor yourself now that I'm no longer your man.

I hate it when you get all jealous, even more though when you don't.
I hate that I want to try again and you say that you won't.

I hate that I want to spend my life calling you "my little baby."
I hate that all I want is your time, and you can't give me a "maybe."

I hate that I'll sit back and watch while you date, kiss, fuck, and laugh with other men.
I hate that I'll encourage you and be happy for my best friend.

I hate that you deserve a man whose far better than even I.
I hate knowing he'll be hard to find and I’ll hate watching while you try.

I hate hoping you learn the easy way the lessons dating men teaches.
I hate knowing if you don't and get hurt, I'll be here to lovingly pick up the pieces.

I hate the way you smile at me and how helpless it makes me feel.
I hate the way you won't just give me the one thing I can't steal.

I hate the way you make me laugh, it sometimes makes me cry.
I hate it when you come ask what's wrong, and then call me on that lie.

I hate the way you call me "Daddy" and how vulnerable I become.
I hate you know how much I love you, and that to me, you are "the one."

I hate your cutesie voice, your cutesie words, and your cutesie embrace.
I hate that I feel like I'm a king when you're in your cutesie space.

I hate the way you wear your dresses and the way you fix your hair.
I hate it when you're not looking at me and all I can do is stare.

I hate your stupid laugh, your chuckle, your smirk, your grin, and the way you roll your eyes.
I even hate that face you make when you're on top and I'm inside.

I hate almost everything about you and what those things stir within.
And I hate that telling you how you make me feel, violates laws and boundaries; it's a sin.

I hate knowing you're happy without me, and fine when I don't call.
But mostly...
I absolutely HATE the way I don't hate you.
Not even close.
Not even a little bit.
Not even at all.