If there was ever a girl I was meant to hate, she would be it. I hope she falls on her face someday and breaks all of her little bleached teeth. I hope someone puts her pillow on fire and burns her hair off. I hope she steps in a puddle with her little Minolo shoes. I hope her petite little LA body gets hit by a bicyclist.
I don't even like seeing her smile. It means she is happy. And that means that I failed in my life quest to make her miserable. If I could become anything, I'd be a skin-eating disease and beeline straight to her nose.
Is it normal to despise someone this much? No. It isn't. I know that. But sometimes a girl needs to lash out at someone and sometimes there's a perfect opportunity because this girl meets someone completely worthy of beating up. So what can I do but shrug and go with the flow?
I've been jealous of girls. I've hated the thought of them with my guy, I hated their snub noses and horse faces. This is different. This has nothing to do with my guy.
And everything to do with losing the biggest part of my life.
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