Why Do I Hate Repeating Myself Novels & Stories

I didn’t even bother to look at the driver to see if he was looking at me or not. I simply wanted to get home. “I hate you,” I muttered again. I repeated it several times in my mind, hoping that it was true, but each time I said it, my heart kept rebelling, and my shoulders sagged in painful defeat. Why couldn’t I hate Chase Maddox?

The urge to just close my mouth and sleep here in this comfortable bed was right there, but I reeled it in. This needs to be addressed and I won’t get better unless I talk about it. “I don’t know,” I repeat, “All I know is I hate myself. For allowing it to happen. For leaving them. For relying on someone else to help them. For not doing enough. For only thinking of myself. I hate it. I hate that I allowed it. I hate me.”

That would be a disaster. God, I wish I could undo everything and save myself from this stress, guilt, and paranoia. But deep down, I knew even if I could go back, I would probably make the same mistakes all over again. Lately, I don’t even recognize myself. I used to hate that jerk so much that if I had a gun the day he poured paint on me, I might have shot him without thinking twice. But now? I don’t know. That hatred, that sharp edge, is starting to dull. And I don’t like it.

I repeated this mantra over and over again , to stop the monster roaring within . Once I used to look down on those girls who's eyes will shine with little hearts in them , I rolled my eyes when they claimed they lost their control whenever a cute guy was around and therefore , it was sensible enough for them to make dumb decision . Turns out I was just like them . I can still feel it . His warmth His breath His nearness God. Get a grip . Turns out Karma really did slap one in the face , For two years , Two years I have been fighting my inner self, repeating it over and over again ; that I didn't like Jacob , nor did I enjoyed the forceful he planted on my lips , on our first encounter .

"I'm sorry..." I now seem to have become a stone. It's like my brain has a short circuit. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... It's like a broken plaque that repeats itself in my mind. Sometimes this annoys my brain. The desire to repeat! But is that true I heard? He's saying sorry? Cayden the great? Sorry? Is it just a dream? Or maybe I'm losing my mind because I'm hearing nothing else?

"I'm sorry..." I now seem to have become a stone. It's like my brain has a short circuit. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... It's like a broken plaque that repeats itself in my mind. Sometimes this annoys my brain. The desire to repeat! But is that true I heard? He's saying sorry? Cayden the great? Sorry? Is it just a dream? Or maybe I'm losing my mind because I'm hearing nothing else?

I shrugged, "Then don't test people if you don't have the balls for it." That... That bruised my ego. "You know this isn't new to me," I said through gritted teeth, "I've done this a thousand times," I emphasized. “But you’ve never spent three hours rewriting the same document afterward.” I leaned back slowly in my chair, my jaw tightening as something in my chest began to shift again in a way I didn't like. “That’s not the point,” I said. He nodded slowly, "So the point is... it's all... Normal. A normal reaction."

Her words are barely audible. I take her hand in mine. “Why?” “Because I hate myself, that is why. I would rather hurt myself than lash out at other people.” “Why do you hate yourself? There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful just the way you are.” “Have you ever just felt like you have lost control of everything in your life, and you can’t do anything about it?” she asks. “Yes, many times. Why do you think I do the things I do?”

His words echoed in my head like a cold warning. One thought kept repeating in my head, louder than everything else… How was I supposed to go back to the same man I swore I’d never stop hating for the rest of my life?

I throw my arms around his neck and start crying while he rubs my back before kissing the top of my head. "I will not tell you to stop crying because I know how much hatred you have been keeping in your heart and mind for yourself so cry as much as you want. You need to love yourself first that's when others will love you back." This made me cry harder because whatever he is saying, is correct. I have always hated myself for being bad at everything, for not being able to get my father's love, for causing so many problems for others but mostly for my mother's death.