“See, that’s worse, Thomas,” I tell him, getting choked up. “Because if you don’t hate me then that means you…” I can’t say love. I don’t think I can ever say love. “Feel something opposite of hate, and if you in fact feel something opposite of hate, how could you not find me before this? How could you not pick up a phone to tell me you don’t hate me? I went days and weeks thinking you hated me, that I ruined every fucking thing in your life. I thought because of me, you’d never be happy. People kept telling me it wasn’t true, that it couldn’t have been me, but I never believed them. I still
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