Is there A Clue for sale?

Even if I don't hate you, it doesn't mean I have to like you.

Your indifference is so infuriating, I could smash something, or explode.

I am sick of fixing things.
Just because they can be fixed does not mean you can fuck it up.
If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have to.
I wouldn't need to.
I'd save myself the trouble, and effort, all the waiting, and organizing.

And one other thing: just because I have come to terms with having to rectify it, does not mean I am going to want to talk to you, or anything with you, for the next two hours or so.

Saying sorry cannot lessen the pain -- you should get that, but no.
Get it already, and then leave me the hell alone.
Don't be clueless, fuck up, and then turn around and get pissed at me for being pissed at you.
Bloody insult to injury.