Anger and hatred

I hate you. Sometimes I just fucking hate you. You have no idea how much your words hurt other people; you just throw them away without anticipating repercussions. Language cannot express the anger that I feel towards you at times. Sometimes I think you have ruined my life… Sometimes I think this is all your fault. Fuck you. Seriously fuck you. For being a bitch. For using and exploiting everyone. For always thinking about yourself. For always hurting other people. For not knowing how or when to listen. For not seeing. For always arguing. For thinking you're always right. For refusing to accept that sometimes, you're actually wrong. Fuck you. Every time I think about how hurt I have been for so long, how much I detest myself and have spat upon the person that I am, it is because of you. Younger, smaller, always inferior. I was only a child, and you were a bully when I needed a friend. I lost two strong feet to stand on years ago. You stole my voice, and now my cries are all but internal. I hate to think back to everything I could have been. You ruined me, but you have no idea - and in a way I'm glad of that, because strangely enough, I love you too.