A/N: I haven’t written in forever, and none of it about youtubers, so please bear with me. Also, this is very loosely based off of I Hate U, I Love U by Gnash. I want to write more, but I’m just going to start out small to begin with.
I hate the way that you have to go out almost every night of the week.
I hate how you always bring home a one-night stand.
I hate seeing you make-out with girls at clubs.
I hate having to be the one that take care of you in the morning when you were hung over.
We’ve been friends for a while, and we used to get drunk and talk about how we were going to end up together. We don’t do that anymore though, and that’s why I hate you. You started to treat me like I was one of the guys and nothing more. I know we made those promises while we were drunk, but neither of us were drunk enough to forget about them, and neither of us were drunk enough to not know what we were saying.
I remember the night we left the bar, and went up to your room. We sat on your bed laughing and talking for hours until we finally fell asleep. We were both in our clothes we went to the bar in, but that didn’t matter. We were comfortable in each other’s arms so nothing else mattered. That was the last time I felt like you cared about me, and that you weren’t lying to me. Now, everything that you said to me was a lie.
You sleeping with a couple of girls a month never really bothered me back then. Presently, your sleeping with multiple girls a week. It makes me feel sick inside. I would rarely notice the girls back then, but now that’s all I see. It makes me question if you just said those things to get in my pants, and if that when you didn’t you moved on to other girls. I’m at my breaking point.
I have to admit it though, I love you.
I love the way you would sing to me when I was sad.
I love the way you can always make me laugh, even when I’m mad at you.
I love that I’m not self-conscience around you, and how I can just be myself.
I love that I always have fun with you.
After my last break-up I was a mess. I was an ugly, sobbing, snotty, mess. You held me on my couch until I stopped crying, and you always had another clean tissue waiting for me to use. As I cried you would tell me jokes, and you’d smile as I lifted my red swollen face up to see yours with a smile on my face. After that you’d wipe my tears with your thumb, and say that I was still the best looking person you’ve ever seen.
Like any other friends we would have our fair share of arguments, but you could still make me smile. Most of the time you’d tell me one of our inside jokes, or try out a horrible pick up line. You’d keep on telling me jokes until I finally smiled and forgave you. It was always so hard to stay mad at you.
With all this in mind, I hate the fact that if you wanted me right now; I’d let you have me, and I would spend the rest of eternity with you.
