I love my job, but I hate the commute that takes a good 4 hours out of my daily life, making me hate a perfectly good job.

I love my very few friends and they mean the world to me. I would love to have a bigger social circle, but I don’t seem to fit in anywhere, which really brings me down.

I love having my own skin, hair and beard care routine, but I fucking hate my receding hairline and always consider getting a permanent buzz cut.

I love having a quiet life where I can sit back and essentially do nothing, but I hate not having any hobbies or any particular interests. There’s just nothing out there for me at all, and it’s not for a lack of looking into.

I love staying single and not committing to anyone; I have a whole lot of mental issues to work out before I can commit (or at least that’s what I’ve convinced myself), but I hate looking around me and seeing everyone happier in committed relationships.

I love that I can get in touch with my emotional side very easily, but I hate how sensitive and borderline obsessive it can make me.

Everything. Everything is a paradox to me.