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Gosh, I hate this. I hate not having Max anymore. I hate being upset. I hate just sitting here with nothing to do. I hate being depressed and feeling sorry for myself. I hate that I'm on my period and how it's making everything else I'm going through 10 times worse. I hate that Baskin Robin's closed at 9 and I want ice cream at 9:05 but can't go to Amy's because I don't know if Max is working tonight or not. I would hate to walk in there even if he's not working and have to explain that he broke up with me. I hate that I'm not what he wanted. I hate that I see things that remind me of him. I hate that I did something wrong. I hate that I don't even know what it is I did wrong. I hate that we may not get back together and if we do would he really mean it? I hate living in this sea of pessimism. I hate that the only one (myself) who can stop it doesn't want to. I'm just a selfish bitch who constantly feels sorry for herself because of all of her petty dramas.