Hating Myself Quotes Novels & Stories

"So deal, okay?""What about?""If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself too.""Alright. But if you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself.""Okay."Audrey Simmons is suicidal.Cayden Nowell is too.But when they were about to kill themselves, they met each other on the same rooftop.And so, they made a pact. A suicide pact.This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed.And when they found each other, they finally find a place they can fit into.The only mistake they made was that they broke themselves trying to fix each other.

⚠ Content Warning: Dubious consent, forbidden romance, infidelity, emotional manipulation, and morally gray relationships. My sister finally married the man I've been dreaming about for months. Erotic, shameless, vivid dreams I would take to my grave. But then after my sister went away for a week, leaving me alone with her husband, these dreams feel even more real every passing day, and it feels like Adrian has me wrapped around his finger. I keep telling myself it's just a dream, and Adrian lets me keep believing it is.

He took everything from me. My home. My heart. My daughter. I was twenty four years old, lying in a hospital bed, holding my newborn girl for the first time, when Rane Blackwood walked in with divorce papers and a court order. He said I was unfit. He said I was poor. He said I had nothing to offer his child. And because I had no money, no lawyer, and no one to fight for me, I signed. I told myself it was temporary. I told myself I would come back for her. I kept that promise. Six years later, I am not the broken girl he left behind. I rebuilt from nothing. I worked, I sacrificed, I planned. And when his six shareholders quietly sold their stakes one by one, I was the one buying. By the time Rane Blackwood figured out what was happening, I already owned sixty percent of his company. He does not know it is me. Not yet. I have a new life, a new love, and a daughter I have never stopped thinking about. But my daughter does not know I am her mother. His wife, the woman who was once my best friend, has made sure of that. She has poisoned my child's heart against a woman she does not even know is standing right in front of her. Now Rane is chasing me. Begging. Promising. Suffering. Good. Let him. Some debts are not paid in money. Some are paid in regret.

When the marriage contract was placed in front of me, I only took a moment to read the terms, but Lucien Moretti urged me three times to sign. He was in a hurry, after all. His precious savior, Isabella, was waiting for him to take her to her favorite opera. So I picked up the pen, but I did not sign my name. I copied Isabella’s handwriting and wrote hers instead. In my last life, I had signed that contract with a heart full of hope. I thought becoming Lucien’s wife meant I would finally stand beside him as the Donna of the Moretti family. Instead, he kept me hidden after the wedding. At every public event, Isabella was the woman on his arm. Every matter that should have required the Donna’s approval went through her first. I told myself I was not strong enough yet. I swallowed every insult and was forced to give up everything that should have been mine. Until the night gunmen broke into the Moretti estate, and Lucien chose her again. He carried Isabella out in his arms while I bled out behind him. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back before the wedding contract was sealed. This time, I gave Isabella the Donna’s necklace. I gave her the wedding dress. I even signed her name on the contract meant for me. I gave up my name, and I gave him up with it.

The music made the speakers tremble, the floor vibrated with the rumble of the sound and the jumps of the crazy people. Each one in their own world, dancing together, dancing separately. Enjoying music, company and alcohol. I danced alone, with a drink in hand. Gliding, moving my hips to the rhythm of the music, not paying much attention to anything or anyone around me. Just enjoying that moment of inner peace that I was needing and he was giving it to me. It was a respite, a window that I opened myself in my own cage to let in air and I knew that as soon as I left the club the window would close and I would lock myself back in my world without fresh air. Therefore, he enjoyed everything he could. Alone. With eyes closed. Sweating the bad energy that others left me and breathing the good vibes that I had to give myself. They were approaching me. I drove them away. They invited me. I rejected them. they spoke to me I silenced them. I just wanted to dance and they were going to have to respect that. It was amazing how loud music could be my oxygen tank. It silenced my thoughts, freed me from tensions. There was nothing more relaxing in my life than dancing with my eyes closed and the volume turned up to a thousand. I twirled, I jumped, I wiggled, I hummed, and I sang. The brightly colored lights flickered making it difficult to see, but it was what I liked the most, going blind for an instant, forgetting that I had the ability to see the world, a false, disastrous and difficult world.

I met a boy when he was eight years old. I never believed that the boy with the incredible blue eyes would be my future husband. We grew up and promised to have a life together, which happened. There was nothing to predict that something terrible would happen on my wedding day. Heartbroken, I now find myself at a crossroads. Should I continue with the wedding, respecting our prenuptial agreement? Should I leave him at the altar for having damaged our bond and trust as a couple? And what’s worse. Should I escape from him with a secret that will bind us together for life?

On a packed bus heading toward a college, bodies were pressed together so tightly it was hard to move. I deliberately leaned against a delicate, sweet-looking freshman. She was wearing a short plaid skirt. I hitched the fabric up and pressed myself against her curvy hip. What caught me off guard was her underwear. There was a small hole worn into the fabric, as if she were already overcome. Just as I was about to lose control, I pulled back at the last second. However, she held me there tightly and said, “Mister, don’t stop. Keep going.”

I know it’s wrong to want my dad’s best friend, a man who was old enough to be my dad, but what could I possibly do when I see him in my dream and imagination each time I close my eyes? What could I do when this desire keeps driving me nuts, when I keep getting wet down there just at the sight of him? I tasted the forbidden fruit, and I liked it. I liked every inch of it, and now I can’t bring myself to stop wanting more…

When my mom married his dad, I promised myself I’d ignore the cocky, too-hot-for-his-own-good stepbrother who lived down the hall. But Jace Carter isn’t just good-looking—he’s trouble in a tight black T-shirt. And when we’re left alone in one house all summer, the line between hate and heat starts to blur. He’s off-limits. But that hasn’t stopped me from dreaming about what’s under his towel… Now he’s staring at me like I’m already his dirty little secret.

He was off limits, but I couldn't help but want him. His touch ignited my skin, and his long intense stares set my heart ablaze. He knew me so well, and it made me hope that maybe what we had wasn't just lust and attraction… But he never said the words I wanted to hear. Was I always going to be his angel in secret, or was he going to show the world that I was his? Regardless, I knew I was always going to find myself desiring my best friend's dad.