(Because I'm going to find this therapeutic...)
Remember me? I'm the guy who's life you ruined a few weeks ago. You know, the whole letting my wife pass away so suddenly I didn't get to say goodbye. Yeah, that guy. I just want you to know, I hate you. And not in that base human way that people hate something for a time... I mean in a deep, passionate, psychological fashion where I've dissected every misadventure I've ever been apart of thanks to you. You're a heartless prick, my friend. A dirty rotten bastard that doesn't deserve to exist sometimes. And yet here you are, still blissfully ignorant of all the good people you've made to suffer and all the rotten pricks you've left behind. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, really. What kind of karmic clusterfuck are you on right now that makes you so hellbent on taking good people too soon and leaving all the shit ones to fuck up the world even further.
I'll always hate you, Universe, for what you did to her. I'll never forget the years of joy I won't have now that she's gone. I'll never forgive you, you rat bastard... not today, and not any day hence. You are dead to me, you foul demon, like all the other nameless, faceless gods and goddesses who've crumbled over the aeons. So you just keep shattering lives and ruining dreams out there in the infinite and leave my tiny corner ruled by me and me alone to its own devices. Take your manipulations elsewhere... for the rest of time.
The Lord Curmudgeon