fuck you.

the second last time, you nearly thought i was someone else.
i knew it.
i denied it.
i know it.
i hate it.
it's driving me up the wall because i can't call you on it.
i've moved on.
i'm about to leave to see someone better, who actually cares, who is a gentleman, and who treats me how i deserve to be treated.
it still just pisses me the fuck off, that after that long, this is who you are.
i love you, but i just hate you.