The truth was that she despised him, and very much adored him all at the same time. Both feelings swirled around like water and oil in her body, and she no more figured out what to do with such internal contradictions than she found herself utterly swept up by them. The contradiction consumed her thoughts; it left her dizzy, and her heart soaring, and her mind full of unfinished what-if’s that only made her heart beat faster and her body feel more and more like it did not belong here, or there, or anywhere, but especially not in Berkeley.
Despising Berkeley became a sort of playful game; how many ways could this place toss her around, make her feel devoid of worth, stamp out her confidence, diminish her achievements, provide her with excuses, instill in her an unwelcome and ill-fitting hatred, as if hatred was a game and she was doing her best to win.
But she knew deep down that a trip to Peru, or Seattle, or Argentina, or Spain for that matter wouldn’t help her escape what she was truly fed up with: herself.