Growing up I always heard “hate is such a strong word” and it was always sort of frowned upon to say that I hate something.  It occurred to me though, that humans are made to function in hate the same as they function with love and that’s saying something.  The reality is, most hatred doesn’t hurt anyone and its when it starts to that there’s a problem. For instance, I hate asparagus but being intolerant of asparagus is more amusing than say, hating someone who is black or Jewish or whatever.

Besides the fact that instead of killing something, the asparagus gets to live with me avoiding it rather than showing hate.

A friend and I discussed how some people feel love/hate to extremes. I really don’t. I suppose that I’m a strange brand of human that neither of these comes to be quickly or with any overwhelming feeling. I don’t think I have the ability to hate strongly, or hate a person for that matter. Yet I end up with an ability to infinitely show compassion and care for others. I’m not sure which is better, both have merits.

Really what I’m getting at (and after all the random background nonsense) is that I think hatred stems from bitterness.¹ Bitterness for something someone did or just anything for that matter. I don’t really think that love is the answer to solving hate. Yes they are opposites, but opposites don’t always fix their counterpart, they may just simply neutralize it which isn’t the same. Both are still there, they are just masked.  My theory here is that what truly fixes the hatred is compassion. With compassion people can try to remove the bitterness rather than just hide it.  I used to do a lot of work with homeless people and a lot of the time these people were very bitter and full of anger and hate. I remember handing them sandwiches and ice tea and sitting and talking, it was amazing the difference that it made.

Not that everything isn’t connected. To truly love you have to have compassion I think. At least, in my experience.  I’m rarely ever talking romantic love. You don’t need to be in an intimate relationship with someone to love them, you don’t even need to know them to love them. Part of me loves the humanness that comes from loving everyone, but part of me is sad that its becoming less of a norm.  People would rather be selfish and use love so sparingly. Maybe the reason I can’t express any sort of romantic love is because of the fact that I love people so much I can’t differentiate all that well.  Or maybe I just don’t want to give all my love to one person.  I have yet to figure this out.

1. The real kind of hatred, not my anti-asparagus life↩

Today was convocation. I am now a BFA, an alumni, and officially an adult.

I remember sitting outside with the fireworks overhead, in the tall grass. It had been a warm day, but the evening was chilly and it was now closer to midnight. You had twisted your ankle earlier in the evening carrying me because I had fallen and couldn’t walk on the one foot. You pretended to be a gentleman and asked if you could kiss me. I didn’t like being put on the spot and I said yes, uncomfortable with you asking. I think it was suppose to be romantic.

You invited me over and we watched movies. I was unaware of your intentions and agreed. Friends watching movies together. But you pinned me and went to kiss me. Hard. I don’t know if you knew that it hurt, or that it was my first kiss and you had stolen that moment without hesitation. I know that you didn’t know that my mind wasn’t there. Occasionally it’d come back and think that the kiss was horrible, but you didn’t keep my interest. I think that it was just something new and unexplored and there to do.

I remember my heart skipping a beat as I felt your breath near my face, how caught up in the moment I had been. We were both awkward around one another. To shy and socially inept to convey any sort of thing through words. I remember that I liked the fact you talked more with your movement than with your words, it was unique and comforting. We could have whole conversations through body language alone.

I woke up and my head was on your shoulder, we had been sitting in your car outside of my house. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, and you had to be up, but you stayed. I was shocked that I had dozed off not realizing how tired I was, more shocked that I felt comfortable enough with you to sleep curled up to your shoulder. You showed a side of you that I don’t know if many see and it was a wonderful caring and warm side that put everything at ease and slowed the world down just for a bit.

And then there was you. The most time I’d ever spent with someone. You thought that this was going to be it, but I was never so sure. Something clicked and I realized I’d never love you. After everything and all that time, it just wasn’t meant to be. It killed me to realize it, but the relief after was so wonderful that I felt refreshed.

For the first time in my life I was confronted with having two men vying for my attention. I didn’t choose you even though you were my first choice because I knew that in the long run it’d never work out. You thought it was because I was afraid of commitment and I let you believe that, despite that it was a lot of other things all affecting the decision. And then he broke my heart and knowing what I knew I still couldn’t choose you and I had to watch that slowly kill you and every time I saw it, my heart broke a little too.

I remember arguing, loudly, about something stupid that I can’t recall. It was dark and we were in your car with the lights of my house the only light we had. I was facing you, my face probably hidden in shadow. You couldn’t stand that I was disagreeing with you thinking that your girlfriend should have the same opinions as you no matter what. You raised your hand to hit me and I dared you to do it, not surprised since it wasn’t the first time that you had tried, or succeeded in hurting me in some way.

You picked me up from my home because I had taken too many painkillers to fight off cramps and back pain. You laughed and hugged me when I told you and told me to relax more. We talked off and on as we went to your home. I was nervous, you told me not to be that it would be fun and I’d be liked, and I believed you because it was you telling me it was ok. No one was there when we got to your house and I was still feeling sick so you put me on your bed and curled up with my rubbing my back to make sure I was ok. You whispered that you didn’t want anyone else to show up, because staying where we were seemed like a much better idea.

I was crying and fighting with you. I don’t think I’d ever been so angry before in my life. I questioned why you hadn’t told me any of this months before and your response was that you didn’t want to do it over the phone. Yet there you were, telling me on the phone. I forced you to say it to my face and be a man for once and watch me cry. You did. I forgave you despite everything you did and you continually did the things I had come to hate in you. I remember looking at you and not even being able to remember the reason why I liked you in the first place.

I never had my heart broken so badly or felt so betrayed then when you did it to me.

I’ve never cried so much over another human being before I had to break your heart, repeatedly. Something I never wished to do.

I want to yell and you to tell me how you’re feeling and get me out of this limbo, but I’ll never get a straight answer. It drives me crazy, yet not crazy enough to send me away. You always remind me of me, but a me with clarity and a groundedness that I could never achieve. You acted as an anchor making sure that I would come back when my head would get too far into the clouds.

I hated the girl you were with and then when it came to the option of you being with me I realized that I could never be what you needed or wanted me to be and I felt like I had betrayed you in some secret way.

I remember being afraid of you, being afraid of your anger. Worrying that anytime I upset you that instead of punching a wall you’d one day take it out on me too. A mutual friend agreed. You said you loved me and I never believed it, you’d never put that much fear intentionally into someone you loved.

I opened up to you. I always have, you’re safe, you’re comfortable, everything is safe with you and I still open up to you in ways that I won’t with anyone else. Yet that safety scares me too.

Etched onto my brain forever is when you used your size against me. I was so afraid, I never thought you’d do anything so stupid, but I guess you weren’t really thinking. I remember locking myself in your bathroom and crying because I was so afraid, so worried. I turned to a friend for help and I could never tell them what happened. To this day they still don’t know what was bothering me, only that I was freaking out and it was your fault. We shared a moment and I don’t think you ever really forgave me for doing that. I don’t know if I ever forgave myself, but then, what you did was far worse.