Love Is Hate Novels & Stories

"What do you mean?" "Cause it's clearly that you're in love with him. You told me at first that you're only admiring him but look at you, you cried when he rejected your drink and sandwich. You love him and he's too blind to realize it. He hurt you countless times and you just forgave him like it's nothing." "Love? I'm in love with him?" Am I that dumb? I know love is such a beautiful thing and I don't even know how to identify it.

"I understand Mike but you know that for a it takes quite long for a pain to heal. She doesn't hate you brother. She might be just afraid of maybe scared. I don't know if she loves you but she doesn't at all hate you brother. I think she is just afraid of facing what you made her pass through all over again. "If hate is ice, then love is warmth and tolerance is a cold neutral. If you want to melt ice, be warm. If you want to combat hate then love with a passion. Instead of "blindness" show others how to see beauty in whom they fear. Show them how to make the loving bonds of true and lasting friendship.

I shook my head, a frown forming on my face. “Of course not…I hate him. But I do miss the sex. It sucks. It makes me feel like a hypocrite. How can I hate someone and love fucking them?” I asked. Ria laughed. “Haven't you heard? Hate isn't the opposite of love. They're sisters.” She replied. I chuckled, and shook my head. “Yeah…but I didn't say anything about love. I said I love the sex.” I told her. She wiggled her brows at me. “I didn't say I wasn't talking about sex.” She replied.

Love. END

she says with a dry laugh. "Love and hate being the same thing?" he questions, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yeah you know I mean love is great, loving someone is pretty fantastic I'm sure but I think the line between love and hate is pretty thin and to love someone you also have to hate them a little. I mean do you honestly think you could have someone having a strong annoying hold on you to get you to do whatever they want with just a cute smile. Personally I think I would hate that a little."

I had learnt something else, something which had changed my mindset. From all my observations in the past month, I had figured out that Hate was way more stronger than Love. Love was nothing but fantasy, something read in storybooks and viewed in movies. It was something mistaken by others as real and true, while it was truly nothing but mere lust compounded with desire and sexual need. Something which our body hormones toy with us.

Hope Hate it radiates from every cell in my body. It burns with every breath i take as i drag my tired feet through the mud beneth me forcing myself to stand when i hear the men shouting from the door keeping us locked in this god forsaken place. I can hear the cough of a small girl no more than 10 in the cell next to mine, her chains rattiling with every shake of her shoulders. i wonder what she did to get here. Shes weak we all are, no food or water for two days will do that to you. The dougens smell of sulfure and desparation. Its dark with a single dimly lit lantern sitting in the corner. It flickers from the small breeze coming from beneath the doungen door. My name is hope, its kind of

It made me look back at him with a hard glint. What a great way of saying he despises me. He had never given me a happy birthday card on my birthday forget about it he had never even wished me a happy birthday. What else would confirm that he hates me the most? Why is he even putting much of his effort into showing me his hate? I know very well that he hates me and it will remain the same till the end on both sides. And now I don't care about it as it doesn't affect me in any way. Ava looked from me to him seeing our cold hate war going on through our eyes. Feeling her gaze I broke our stare and looked at her.

Because this—this place, this house, the moment was not right at all, in any way. Laura. Her chest tightened again, because she loved Laura, she really did, but currently, the thought of seeing her made something ugly twist inside her. It was jealously, resentment and something darker, she didn’t know what to name it. And she hated herself for feeling this way, but at the same time, she couldn’t help it. ‘I shouldn’t be feeling like this…’ she whispered under her breath, wiping her tears quickly, almost aggressively. But they didn’t stop and it wouldn’t stop. Every minute, their footsteps kept on getting closer, closer and louder.

My mother’s hatred towards me seems rooted in her resentment towards my father for abandoning us and everything else associated with him. My sister is a different story altogether. She has no real reason to harbor resentment or hatred towards me. When we were younger, I took care of her during the times our mother had to work late at night, and I always did my best to look out for her. Yet, this is the thanks I get for caring for my family—the ingratitude and misunderstanding. Meanwhile, Brian, on the other hand, is a jerk and completely undeserving of my love and affection. I find myself overwhelmed with frustration and disappointment, and I couldn't help but think so as I listened to my mo