I love you.

But I hate you. 

It's impossible for me to not love you,

As you are my family.

The one that shares the same blood with me. 

But I hate you. 

To the deep of my soul. 

For all those hurtful memories that you gave me.

To all those tears and broken pieces of me that shattered through the silence blackest night. 

To all my silent shouts that you never want to hear.

I will never hurt you the way you hurt me.

But why it's easier for you to hurt me?

Are my love and your love come from different places?

But we are family. 

I always thought that family should protect…

Was I wrong?

I'm not a saint.

No matter how much I love you,

I don't think that the words family can ever make me forgive anymore.

I always wished for your happiness.

Even if it means to give you all my happiness.

But I don't think I have anything in me that I can give you anymore.

You took everything. And yet still won't stop hurting me. 

I wonder if I love too much. Or if I love the right person.

Or even if I should still love you?