10 Things I Hate About Myself Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

Why I am not strong like others? "I'm so sorry. So sorry. So sorry but I couldn't..." I whisper sobbing. "I miss you...I miss you so much. please come back....your honeybee miss you... Please come back no one love me now.... everyone hates me no one loves me .... please come back" I chock and start sobbing. "Honeybee remember I always with you" "Honeybee alwys remember who are you it's ok to be different but it's not ok to hate yourself"

"Because I hate them. Because I’ve hidden them for so long I forgot how to be anything but ashamed." He didn’t speak. "It’s not something I ever let anyone see. Not because I don’t trust… but because I don’t want to be reminded of who I used to be. Of what I let happen." Tears slipped down before I could stop them. "I’m a mess, Leo. A disgusting, broken mess. Every time I see myself in the mirror, I hate what looks back." He stepped forward. I stepped back. "I hate my body. I hate my past. I hate myself."

Each word was a blow, each blow the release of a poisoned memory. “I hate you for every night I spent waiting for a letter, a sign, anything from you, like an idiot! I hate you for never letting me forget the taste of your mouth, the sound of your voice… I hate this desire that corrodes me from the inside, that makes me tremble for you even knowing what you did!” My fists opened, my hands clutching his shoulders, not to push him away, but to dig the pain into him. “And I hate myself…” I sobbed, the most obscene confession slipping out like a cursed secret. “For not being able to truly hate you. Because even now, with your black soul inside me, it’s the only place that still feels… safe.”

I am pathetic and weak, no surprise there. It disgusts me, I don’t know why I keep doing this. I hate myself, my decisions, and who I am. I despise myself, and I can't stand myself on most days. That’s why I am rotting on the side, a walking shell, a doll that needs to be back to perfect health and form so that it will be placed by the mantel, where it won't make any moves. Where it belongs. On display, not looked at too closely, or you will see its imperfections, but pretty enough to just glance at and keep moving.

I let out all that I have to say and admitted it. I hate admitting it. And I hate my mind for not letting me forget about it. I've always got what I wanted, and I will never give this up! I know that I am stubborn and selfish and self-centered and a drama queen. I know it. But I have every reason to be. And if you people can't understand how I feel and still suck up to that brat, then f*ck you all, I hate you, I wish you all die along with that brat! You do not understand my pain and what I had to give up to be here.

We’ll part ways, she’ll leave me. Our life isn’t normal. Happiness detests me… I'm a detestable person. We’ll part ways, she’ll leave me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. She hates me or worse, she’ll hate me. Our life isn’t normal. The pages fell from my hands, I shivered while collecting them. My insi

I asked Ian while he shifted uncomfortably on the chair. "Not good," he said honestly and we both sighed. "What about you?" "Not good," I repeated his words and he smiled sadly at me. "I-I loved my mum and then I-I loved Clark . . . I still do . . . A part of me still . . . loves him and I hate myself for that . . . " "George---" "I hate myself," I whispered more to myself and said, "I'm so pathetic. I hate myself for being who I am, I hate myself for nearly being the reason my mum died, I hate myself for loving someone so despicable."

"I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I fit this pattern. I hate all of it." "Hating yourself doesn't change anything" Bella said. "It just makes you feel better about being terrible. Like self awareness is the same as growth. But it's not. You can understand your pattern and still repeat it. You probably will repeat it." "I won't" I said. "I swear I won't."

“Why did you bring me out here? “Stay away from him, you trust too easily. He replied. Ariel scoffed in disbelief. “I know you don't like me, but it has nothing to do with Jaques. I was having fun some moments before, stop trying to make my life miserable.” “Why would I want to make your life miserable? Your life is useless.” He replied to the distraught Ariel. She could feel her heart shatter in a million bits. His words had struck her soul. Ariel reminisced about the time she had spent at the orphanage, and how chaotic her life had been growing up. Tears pooled her eyes as all the painful memories flooded her mind. Maybe he was right after all, her life was pathetic. “Why do you hate me so

Love is everything. @Shybabe: I think the only essence of my life is to accept and be accepted. Every day, I wake up thinking I will accept myself, but I spend the rest of my day hating myself. I cannot look at myself in the mirror and stop hating what I see. I hate who I am. I hate what I look like. I hate what I’ve become. I just want to accept myself. Is that too much to ask?