I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! You influenced my life on quite a few occasions. But as soon as I started living independently of you, you pop in and upset my applecart. My mind spins with speculations and hopes, and my imagination provides evidence of my maladjusted viewpoint. Then reality slides in and the salt starts to open my wound again. Innards blurt out of my skin, and I hate myself all over again. How many years until I mend this time?