What do you hate to love the most?

Hate to Love

Today’s prompt has got me thinking. It’s not an easy question for me to answer. But I want to write a blog post this morning, so I’ve only got this time to brainstorm as I write. Although, I may not need to brainstorm because as I write, I already have one person in mind, one person who I hate to love. I also hate that I hate him. I want to want to love him but you see, this person would only be loved by his wife, his mum, and his friends.

Anyone else is debatable including sisters. I am one of his sister. The person I am talking about hating to love, is my brother.

Deep down, I know I love him although it’s hard to admit this even to myself.

When I was a kid, i used to think that I loved him out of obligation. I loved him like I loved my sisters, because he was my brother. But I actually hated him because he’s my brother. I hated to love him. I hated that I hated him. Most of the times when we argue and I cry, I’m actually crying because I hate him so much. Does this show my love? Not really, not when I’m thinking of ways to kill him.

Oh yeah, I’ve thought about it. Stabbing him with a knife or use a pan like how Rapunzel used a pan in Tangled, except I’ll use a hot pan for maximum effect and burning.

He’s not going to change himself, but then again, neither am I. We both have to live with each other. We’re both stubborn and sometimes I hate that he’s more stubborn than me, but now I know, it’s both of our downfall. I think this wasn’t actually a hard question to answer, it was just hard to admit, hard to write and open up about. But that is what I love about writing especially in my diary, because I feel like I could write about anything and no one would know. It’s like my own little world, just me, and the book.




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