Hate That I Love You

Hate That I Love You

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Nov 17, 2012
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Fiction
Romance
She's a blogger. He's an actor She's honest and he's a liar. She tells everything while he hides what he can. She has a million followers while he has thousands of fans. They met for revenge.... They become friends out of hatred.... But they would separate ways because of love... In a world where everyone watches you, listens to you, admires and hates you...In a place where love seems distant and fake.... How can a true love be formed? How can it be kept? how can it lasts? How can hatred turned into love??
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YuanFen

What we have is just now. As long as she loves me. As long as she wants to be with me. As long as there is 'we'. I love her! But the rainbow is not just a blend of vibrant and bright colors. It doesn't even stay for a long period of time-- just enough for us to see and in a fleet of time is gone, leaving us wondering if it's real. A rainbow doesn't have black and white. It wasn't just like that. Same as love. Same as us. There were times that i want to give her up. Not because my love did fade, rather, my love is too much. Too much that letting her go is the only option left for her to choose me without hesitation, without guilt, freed of lies. I want her to grow, to weigh things as it is. I want her to make me feel that being with me is her choice. I want her to realize that i am hers and that she have to surrender herself to me as well. I want her to love me because that is the way she feels and not because it was the safest way. Being with her is paradise. It was a mixture of colored pastel. It was too vibrant to explain. But at a sudden twist of downs and ups, we are shaking. Loving her has become my weakness. The weakening thought of losing her when I fuck up is too much to run me insane. I'm overreacting perhaps. But being with her, means walking in a narrow-road of heaven. There's no security, no assurance. One wrong move, and I'll be slipping away. Just in the never ending pain of darkness, of solitude, of self-struggle. Loving her has become my addiction. I couldn't get enough of it. But so they say, what's too much can cause harm. Maybe I'm loving her too much that she finds it hard to breathe when i'm around. But yes, it is just a wishful thinking; things that I'll surely not going to say to her because i will never ever earn the courage to say so. We are just nothing but a 'fateful coincidence.'

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