I hate it.

I hate that I've known her since we were little kids in school. I hate how she used to show me up by acting all superior, and how she wasn't afraid of me like everyone else was. I hate how she had all those friends, and I didn't have any. I hate that she wanted to be my friend. I hate that she was.

I hate how because of our parents, we were always together. I hate that we started to want to spend time together. I hate that once we went into the double digits, she turned to me for everything, from math help to comfort when she was scared.

I hate that when her Dad died, I was the one she wanted to talk to because I was her 'best friend.' I hate that when my Mom died, she was the one I cried to. I hate that when I became an orphan, she insisted I stay with her family, even though they didn't really trust me. I hate that I had to depend on her for a home, for anything.

I hate that she was always getting in trouble, and that I had to save her from all those potential rapists, muggers, and murderers when she went out at night. I hate that when we got into high school, all those guys were staring at her as if she was an object, not a human. I hate how they never looked at her face, just below it and lower.

I hate how they always teased and bullied her for being with me. I hate how she got hurt because of what I was. I hate how all those perverts kept asking her for dates, and how I always had to make sure they weren't going to try anything. I hate how guys kept breaking up with her.

I hate how she didn't go to prom with anyone, but was a wall flower because no one would ask her to dance because they were afraid of what I'd do to them. I hate how she didn't take offense. I hate how I could never say what I wanted to say to her.

I hate how she wanted to go to the same college as I did, to become a florist while I was studying to become an architect. I hate how drunk guys kept throwing themselves at her at those college parties we sometimes went to. I hate how I always take care of her and make sure she's okay.

I hate how she still want's to be my friend, even though she knows I'm an ass. I hate how she was always looked at weird when she went out in public with me. I hate how she didn't seem to notice that being with me was ruining her reputation.

I hate how when she's sad, she cries. I hate how she cries over everything, trivial and serious alike. I hate how she looks when she's crying. I hate how I feel like I wasn't able to protect her, that I failed. I hate that when she cries, I'd go to the moon to make her stop.

I hate that she never stops smiling. I hate that her smile could brighten up anything, and even make a rainy day enjoyable. I hate how her smile thaws even my icy heart, and just for an instant makes me feel happy. I hate how I'd do anything to make her smile.

I hate the way her nostrils flare when she's angry. I hate that sparkle in her eyes when she's yelling at me for being a jerk. I hate that her temper is as unpredictable as the future. I hate how beautiful she look when she's angry. I hate how much I love making her angry.

I hate how her violet eyes shine when she's happy. I hate that her laugh is music to my ears, and that I can't get enough of it. I hate how I could pick her out in a crowd, just by her heart beat and scent. I hate the way her raven colored hair blows in a cool breeze, making her look like an angel.

I hate what her scent is, sakura blossoms, lavender, and jasmine. I hate the way it makes my mouth water. I hate how innocent she can be one moment and completely demonic the next. I hate the way she doesn't care about race, and doesn't think it matters.

I hate the way she speaks when she isn't paying attention, saying odd things like "well, butter my buns and call me a biscuit," or "everything but the kitchen sink." I hate how it's weird yet endearing. I hate how she stands by me, and won't leave me, know matter what I do.

I hate the way my heart races when I hear her name, and the way it feels on my lips when I say it out loud. I hate how much I enjoy hearing my name escape her lips. I hate the way I feel, and that I can't say or do anything about it. I hate that I can't tell her everything.

I hate the way I feel about Kagome Higurashi.

I hate it. I hate it so much, sometimes I could just die. I hate that she could never feel the same way. But there's something I hate worse.

I hate that I love her so much.