320 Words of Undying Love

She hated cats. She hated kids. She hated lemon marmalade. She hated rain. She hated grapefruit. She hated roosters in the morning. She hated running. She hated pillows. She hated sales of things that neared their date. She hated women gossiping by the church on the Sundays that she went.

She hated waiting for the bathroom. She hated driving past an hour. She hated people that paid no heed to the red octagonal sign. She hated watching television at a quarter after one. She hated marshmallows burnt like they were birthed right from the sun. She hated sleeping in her lonely one-bedroom apartment when the lights had gone. She hated waking up too early for her awesome boring job.

She hated lakes. She hated farms. She hated carnival rides and games. She hated how they’d known each other since some forgotten age. She hated the crooked paper heart he’d made sometime in kindergarten. She hated holding hands with him for the whole trip to the zoo. She hated their first movie alone together when they hit the seventh grade. She hated their first kiss as she achieved official teen. She hated going on long walks. She hated taking in the breeze. She hated how he’d get her gifts just to see her smile. She hated going on dates to places that never seemed worthwhile. She hated crying while he was on a trip to somewhere overseas. She hated that they still knew each other after all this time. She hated that he’d asked for her hand with no forewarning whatsoever.

She hated the nature in which she walked. She hated the stupid way she talked. She hated the reflection in the mirror. She hated making hard decisions. She hated how every time she’d made one, it was always the wrong one. She hated rationality. She hated her emotions. She just hated life in general. Everything. Everyone. But I loved her.