He hated it.
He hated it when I was sad.
He hated it that I never accepted myself.
He hated it when I cried.
He really hated my tears.
He hated the fact that I loved somebody else more than myself.
He hated that somebody, he said that person has to let me feel like the most important thing in the world.

So he hated himself, because he was the person that I loved more than myself.

He loved me.
He loved me so he hated himself.