I hate the fact we are strangers 

I hate the way you changed your haircut 

I hate how you got accepted to the college we constantly used to daydream about 

I hate how you declined me when I tried to give your gray sweater back to you

I hate you to the point that I am composing a poem only for you

I hate it. I hate your indifference from others 

and the way that you still know me just like the palm of your hand

Just Like it was yesterday when I confessed you the things I  am passionate about

and how you are included in them.

I hate the fact that you still make me laugh even with your absence  

I hate still remembering your voice

and all the talks we had while driving downtown 

I hate how I constantly find you in the simplest things when I walk in the street 

I hate how I hear your name in the streets

and how I can’t help smiling while hearing it. 

I hate the hit of nostalgia that enters my heart

and memories while composing this poem.

But what I hate the most

Is the fact that I don’t hate you.

Not even a  bit