I remember the first time I heard it. The words cutting deep, the edge in his voice. I remember being hurt so deeply it ached. My eyes welling up at the pain.
I remember feeling slightly ridiculous that I was so affected.
After all he was just five-years old.
Surely he couldn’t mean it?
I said I HATE you he cried again when I hadn’t responded with words just silence as though I hadn’t heard the first time.
The H-word. It hurts doesn’t it?
I HATE you. I HATE you. I HATE you.
The first time you hear it it can be soul destroying. You wonder how on earth this tiny little thing you love and adore and nurture could turn on you.