​I do not hate people. 

They scare me. 
Every time they throw around their words; and then after an hour, apologise, saying how they didn’t mean what they said and it only came out of their mouths in the spur of the moment, it chills me to the bone, wondering how often they have done this to me, saying things that they didn’t mean, and even more so, thinking of how often I believed them with every ounce of my being, taking them to their words.

I don’t hate people.

They terrify me.
Each time someone becomes very important to me, so much so that by the end of our meetings, I am practically spilling my heart out to them, they leave. Every time someone important leaves, he takes away a part of me with him, and I am afraid that someday, so many parts of me would be taken away, that I’d just be a scattered mass of pieces that do not fit together to make a meaningful picture.

I don’t hate people.

They surprise me.
People surprise me with their undying declarations of love; with their confessions of an affection so strong that it takes their breath away.  They astonish me with their eloquence with emotions they don’t even feel, but yet express profoundly. They catch me off guard with phrases like “I love you”, “I can’t live without you” .
I have never hated people. They just terrify me.


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