I purely hate the guy.
Really.
I hate his smile.
I hate how he breaths.
I hate how he talks.
I hate what he talks about.
I hate his jokes.
I hate when he cares. I am not sure if he could care.
I hate when he lies.
I hate when he listens to music.
I hate when he dances. He cannot dance anyway, it makes me hate him even more.
I hate his pain.
I hate when he smokes weed.
I hate his red eyes.
I hate his Zippos.
I hate his cigarette brand.
I hate when he snowboards.
I hate his board, bindings and boots.
I hate the number 28 sticker on his board.
I hate his body.
I hate when he changes his clothes.
I hate his face.
I hate his ear rings.
I hate his beard.
I hate his lips.
I hate when he sings and does those stupid gestures.
I hate his motorcycle jacket.
I hate his Lamb of God tshirt.
I hate his Amon Amarth sweatshirt.
I hate when he lights up a cigarette.
I hate his looks.
I hate his eye color.
I hate when I think that he kisses, hugs, fucks that bitch.
I hate his rings.
I hate his tattoo.
I hate his thoughts about his father.
I hate his stupidness.
I hate when he laughs.
I hate his carelessness.
I hate when he sends photos to our team's Whatsapp group. He did it just a second ago and I am pissed as hell.
I hate when he talks to the other people.
I hate when he hangs at my favorite places. I really hate this one.
I hate the place where we kissed for the last time.
I hate the room 327 where he kissed me for the first time.
I hate his love for blue eyes. Fuck you.
I hate his questions.
I hate the fact that we could be a great couple.
I really hate that he matches me and I match him.
I hate not to be able to hate the places we hanged, I love those places, he just raped those places.
I hate to look on his Facebook account.
I hate to hear news about him. Some dirty ones.
I hate to hate him.