Novel & Cerita From Hate To Love

(Source taken from Wiki Diff) More details... Love = now or in the future Loved = in the past See you 👋 LOVE ALL❤️

“But how come? You’ve always hated me. Why were you hurt when I started dating Steven?” “Can't you see? Hate is the second strongest emotion to love. I only hated you because I loved you, because I couldn’t be with you.” What kind of crap show is this? I reached for the remote and changed it to a basketball game. Yes, this makes more sense. Sports, not stupid love dramas. Hate is masked as love. Ridiculous.

“Do you see now, Melisa?” I whispered, eyes locked on hers. Her beautiful, tear-stained eyes, filled with pain, and still… so perfect. “You are fucking insane… Sebastian. I hate you! I hate you!” She screams in loud as she hates me. It is not a word. It’s a pulse. A breathless gasp between obsession and agony. It coils in my chest like a snake too warm to rest, sinking its fangs into reason, into mercy. Hate is love starved, love denied, love twisted until it bleeds. It tastes like copper and broken teeth, like the space between your silence and my scream. It whispers louder than prayer, and louder still than truth. I do not choose hate—I become it.

at last I whined "Why!??? Just love me instead" She chuckled and pulled my cheeks before passing by to arrange the plates "Love is hard"I whined again "No Love is taking risks..and here,I've taken the risk that maybe he might love me..or I'd never be loved..that's it" I rubbed my temples .."that's even more complicated" She laughed.."you Know love begins with hate..if you hate someone so much..that you can't stand them..it's love"

It's a matter of learning what will push you to that point. I've spilled blood. Out of luck or whatever anyone wants to call it. This crusade is fueled by love. A pretty, sparkling, soft emotion, capable of wreaking more havoc than hate. Hate can't dig under the skin the way love does. It doesn't alter your cells or spark chemistry. You'd bleed for someone you love, never someone you truly hate. But hate holds a dark power of its own. And right now, both hate and love are driving my decisions.

“This isn’t love. It’s sick what you are doing to me. This is not right Tristan… How can you think for one second that anything good will come out of this? You think I will change my mind and want to be with you?” “Your body wants to be with me… It’s just your head.” “That’s just it isn’t it? I will never be swayed, whether or not you give me the best pleasures ever, I will never let what you did to me cloud how I feel. I can never feel more than hatred toward you. I’m sure deep down you know this.” “Love… Hate… Same thing really.”

I clasped my palms together, hoping he would see the desperation in my eyes. “If you have any ounce of conscience, Eve, then you’ll marry me. Are you not afraid of Arthur finding out? Do you want to be back on the street, homeless?” He pushed me out of his way, leaving me on the ground while I cried till I was tired. I hate my father, I hate him so much that I wish he would just go to hell. It was because of him my mother died, and now—just when I was about to start a better life, his deeds are back to haunt me.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours of silence. For Lily, each minute had been a deliberate brick laid in the wall she was building between her old life and this new, sterile reality. The sweetness of that afternoon in the penthouse—the shared smiles, the brushes of hands, the whispered possibilities—felt like a fever dream now, a hallucination brought on by a desperate need to be loved. In the cold light of the aftermath, there was only the jagged truth: Julian Vane was no different from Thomas. He was just better at branding.

It makes you do crazy things, things you probably shouldn’t do. The opposite of love is hate. Hate is a feeling we all know and some of us encounter it on a daily basis. It makes you cold and unfeeling, it crushes your soul and changes who you are. If you allow it in, hate can be more powerful than love. It’s easier to hate than to love. Up to this point I’ve never hated anyone and I had plenty of reasons to hate, to be angry, to want more, to expect more. Being driven is not a bad thing, unless the drive inside of you takes over, because then, you lose yourself to it.

The simple honest wish of a man who had decided that if the person he loved was going to be loved by someone else then the someone else had better do it correctly. Take care of each other. "We will," I said. He nodded. Once. Clean and certain the way he did everything. He opened the door. He went back to his desk. And I stood in the small meeting room for a moment with the ring on my finger and the warmth of the morning and the specific weight of Marcus Reed's grace settling around me and I thought about the specific cost of loving someone who chooses someone else and the specific dignity of bearing that cost without letting it make you smaller.