Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.

10 Things I Hate About You:

I hate the way you look at me now, eyes full of pity, full of sadness, full of guilt. But never, ever, with the same longing your gaze once held. I'll catch you staring at me from across the room and the look in your eyes should make me want to hit you, but for some reason the only thing that crosses my mind is kissing the worry right off your face.

I hate the way you talk to me, choosing your words so carefully, as if one false step will send me running for the hills. Or maybe the cliffs. Ha-ha. See, I still have a sense of humor. It's one of the many things I can thank you for. Oh, I'm sorry, did that sound sarcastic?

I hate the way you cut your hair. That sounds superficial, doesn't it? But I really do. Did she make you do that? Does she like it better short? Yes, I say she because I can't bear to write her name, can't even bear to think it most days. This is how pathetic I have become, that the thought of a name can cause me to completely break down. I know what you're thinking; this isn't the first time you've been that pathetic. And you would be absolutely right. Some days I wonder why you didn't leave me sooner.

I hate that you talk to me at all. I can tell that you do it out of some twisted obligation you feel. Every call, every text, every how are you, Bella? Sets my pulse racing, but at the same time turns my stomach. It's so trivial, so impersonal and every time, every fucking time, I ask myself; how the hell did we get like this? But it's a rhetorical question, because we both know the answer only too well.

I hate the way you look at her; full of love, full of reverence, full of desire. It makes me absolutely sick, yet I can't turn away. It makes me want to scream and pull out all my hair, yet I play it over and over again in my mind. How masochistic of me. But mostly I hate how you never looked at me that way.

I hate you the most when you make me laugh. Can't you see that I just want to wallow in my own hapless misery? Can't you let me have at least that? No. No you can't. Because you always had to make me feel better, even if you're just making it ten times worse.

I hate you when you make me cry, which you do with alarming regularity. You'd probably hate yourself, too if you knew just how many times I've really cried because of you.

I hate you for making me love you. You made it so easy to fall in love with you. You were always there, you put me back together, you believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. You made me laugh when I thought I would never smile again, and you always put my needs above your own. You were selfless; you loved me and helped me learn to love myself. I would say that I don't know who I am without you, but I'm stronger than that now. You made me stronger than that. I suppose that's one thing I can thank you for. (Okay, so there's a lot of things I could thank you for, but that's another letter altogether.)

I hate that I still want you. That's not exactly your fault, but it kind of is. You still strut around shirtless and I can't help but appreciate your beautiful body. I look at your big, strong hands and I can't help but remember those hands touching every inch of my skin. Gravity edges your swim shorts a little farther down than they're supposed to go and I can't help but think of what lays underneath. I watch your lips as you talk and I can't help but recall the way those lips used to moan my name. Do you ever think about me when you're making love to her?

I hate that I still love you.

But most of all, I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. I hate that I could never hate you.

Sincerely not yours, Bella

P.s. I also hate that I will never send you this letter, because I know that it will only hurt you. And even after all the pain you've put me through I can't even stomach the thought of being the cause of yours.

AN: This is unlike anything I've written before, so please let me know what you think.