I HATE PETER WHO PLAYS WITH MY FEELINGS

Dear Peter, mon cheri,

I cannot stand you.

You make me feel so angry, I can hardly look at you.

Those beautiful hands, that smirk on your face, that perfect smile of yours, between those dimples, those condescending eyes...

You make me sick.

The way you lightly touch my chin and stroke my leg when I am too busy or distracted to react.

And how you always stand too close to me, slightly bumping into me when we walk.

Or when I feel your stare every time I turn my back to you, every time I am not looking.

The way you sigh and say my name when we hug, holding me in your arms a little too long.

Constantly teasing me, so much that I cannot tell what is real anymore.

I hate that I cannot tell what's on your mind.

You make me feel vulnerable, Peter.

I wish we had never met.

Avec toute ma haine,

Je-te-déteste.