I hate him, I hate him, yes I really do!
No matter what happens, he'll hate me too!
He's rich and mean, and teases me as well,
Me love him? Go to hell!
Six we were, he'd tease me all day,
My hair, my freckles, that was all he would say.
I was no less, I retorted back too,
For every damn day there was nothing new.
Fourth grade it was when we began the same school,
When I learnt of this, I cursed Karma as cruel.
Before he studied at some some other place,
Couldn't he have stayed there? I had always hated his face!
Sixth grade arrived, and we were put in the same class,
That year in maths I punched him — I'm a fiery lass.
Later I got suspended, and it was his fault too,
For God's sake, he had dyed my bag blue!
In seventh grade, we did a project together,
Not by our own choice — never ever!
Still we worked side by side, without too much fuss,
He even liked my drawing — or was it just'a make me blush?
He made fun of my bag, which was actually my fav,
And following that, everyone else did - my friends save.
So when he came in orange braces, I teased him to no end,
It was the sort of relationship we had, which we never tried to mend.
It was in eighth grade, in school I fell sick,
I felt dizzy and weak — I'm us'aly a strong chick.
Only he noticed, to the infirmary he took me,
And at home he visited me with flowers — he!
In my first year of high school, over my head he dropped milk,
I calmly got up and threw back some cake, which was as soft as silk.
A detention was issued to the both of us, my side of the story went unheard,
In detention we had a yelling match, with quite a few cuss words.
In tenth I had my first ever breakup,
I cried so much and ruined my makeup.
He didn't laugh, or tease or mock at all,
He listened to me, and stroked my head as I bawled.
Later that year we fought over something silly,
Maybe it was over that mean girlfriend of his, Milly?
We didn't talk for a week, and another, and one more,
But to be truthful, without him life was a bore.
Every time he'd help me, then again we'd squabble and fight,
This cycle repeated, day and night.
I was tired of it all, but what was I to do?
We were enemies - if he was not my enemy, then who?
In 11th grade he had to leave,
His dad got a transfer — I didn't grieve!
I was happy, yes, 'cos I had always hated him so much,
A part of me wondered if it really was such.
A year later he returned, I was shocked at the least,
How could he have been such a mean beast?
I slapped him and punched him, and then hugged him tight,
And then I kissed him — it felt just right.
I still don't know how I fell for him,
Definitely not 'cos he goes to gym.
Not because he's handsome, or rich, or smart, (Although they are nice reasons)
But simply because I now love him - with all my heart. (Our story changed, like the seasons)
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