Crush

I hate her big, beautiful, brown puppy-dog eyes.

I hate her cute bangs.

I hate her cream skin.

I hate how she looks timid without her friends.

I hate her blinding smile.

I hate her pretty, little fingers.

I hate how she dresses modestly.

I hate that she is a dreadfully nice person.

I hate her several smiling friends.

I hate the way our eyes met while I was working at Chick-fil-A.

I hate that she was in line.

I hate how I averted my eyes.

I hate how it looked like she averted her eyes too.

I hate that I don't know what to do.

I hate that the tears I've shed these recent years are because of her.

I hate that the tears I've shed these recent years are because of me.

I hate that I feel so damn lonely.

I hate that I don't know what to do.