And then this just came right back to me out of the sudden, when now I’m sitting here waiting for him to come.
We were both inside my small room back in Kampar.
Me: I hate you.
Bf: I like you.
I was sitting in front of my laptop when I said that. And there he was, lying on my bed and turned around when he told me that. And all I can do was staring at his back, thinking if I had hurt him when I said that.
But the truth is, I can never hate you.
And maybe “I hate you” always means “I hate loving you so much” or “I love you”.