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Description
I want to hate you. I want to hate you, but then I think of how I heard you laughing in the bathroom that one time and I asked what was going on in there and you said your poop looked like the Loch Ness Monster. I remember I said, "Well, kiddo, the Loch Ness Monster isn't real." and you yelled back, "WELL, HE'S IN MY TOILET! YOU CAN COME TAKE A LOOK IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!" and I said God no! and you flushed.

I want to hate you. But then you sit across from me wearing his shirt and instead of wanting to hit you, I want to rip that fucking shirt off and hold you and then take the shirt from my back and put that one on you instead. But I can't because you'll still smell like him for a second and then I'll remember I can't do that. Because it's his shirt, not mine. Because you're the love of his life...and, sadly, mine.
Can I ask you a favor, though? If I give you my left sock, will you wear it sometimes? Not all the time, just some of the
time.

No?

Well, then I'd say "FUCK YOU" right here if only I could hate you. I pray to God I can hate you tomorrow and if not tomorrow, then the next day...or the next...maybe a year from now...maybe on my death bed.
When you lean over my dying body, you'll say, "I always loved you" and I'll smile and say, "Well, kiddo, you flushed the monster down the toilet and i'm doing the same. I hate you. Bitch."

Description
I want to hate you. I want to hate you, but then I think of how I heard you laughing in the bathroom that one time and I asked what was going on in there and you said your poop looked like the Loch Ness Monster. I remember I said, "Well, kiddo, the Loch Ness Monster isn't real." and you yelled back, "WELL, HE'S IN MY TOILET! YOU CAN COME TAKE A LOOK IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!" and I said God no! and you flushed.

I want to hate you. But then you sit across from me wearing his shirt and instead of wanting to hit you, I want to rip that fucking shirt off and hold you and then take the shirt from my back and put that one on you instead. But I can't because you'll still smell like him for a second and then I'll remember I can't do that. Because it's his shirt, not mine. Because you're the love of his life...and, sadly, mine.
Can I ask you a favor, though? If I give you my left sock, will you wear it sometimes? Not all the time, just some of the
time.

No?

Well, then I'd say "FUCK YOU" right here if only I could hate you. I pray to God I can hate you tomorrow and if not tomorrow, then the next day...or the next...maybe a year from now...maybe on my death bed.
When you lean over my dying body, you'll say, "I always loved you" and I'll smile and say, "Well, kiddo, you flushed the monster down the toilet and i'm doing the same. I hate you. Bitch."