I hate when we fight. I hate it.

All I want to do is make you happy and

I struggle between pushing my feelings aside,

or speaking out about them.

I hate when we fight. I love you.

I cry when you angrily tell me,

“Fine, just go do whatever you want.

Do whatever makes you happy. I don’t care.”

I hate it because the only thing

I can think of that makes me happy,

the only thing I want, is to run into your arms.

To hug you and kiss you, and forget about everything.

I hate when we fight because I can’t do that.

I can’t just curl up in a ball and cuddle with you

forever like I wish we could.

I hate when we fight.