There are many kinds of love. When love becomes a kind of betrayal and a kind of torture, you don't blame anyone but your own deep love. If I didn't meet you, everything about me would not be so depressed. If I didn't meet you, everything about me would be beautiful. I don't hate you, but I hate how we met. I don't love you because I don't even want you. From one bet to another, this is our love, the eternal tragedy.