I hate every-time you mention “being a mother”, “pregnancy”, “mom’s kids”. I hate it so much. It is just like when you mentioned “marriage” when I was in the university.
I hate every-time you expect something too much to me. When you expect I understand what you think, your habit, without mentioning them.
I hate you, until you drop me to a heaven where I don’t need oxygen to breath. I only need you, and your love, to be alive.