Hate does no Good

They tell you hate is a strong emotion, perhaps fiercer than love. But they leave out the crucial details. Like, how it is also the deadliest disease in existence, eating away at your innards until what's left is an empty, deformed shell.

And how, unlike its polar opposite whose object of affection gets to enjoy (or endure) the fruits of whatever intense passion it projects, the cross is all yours to bear.

I hated once. She'd been a loved one, despite the imperfections on both our parts. It wasn't the first betrayal I'd experienced in friendship neither was it the most dramatic. But for some reason, this one cut the deepest.

In no time, the hurt transformed into something darker. We still spoke but inside, I was black ice. With each smile I sent her way, the rage brewing behind my eyes got stronger. Sometimes, my body temperature bespoke what I felt. I'd be burning hot with cold hands.

I realized I was afraid of me. Of what I was becoming. You can't feel something so sinister and have any space for love or light. And in the clash of strong wills, guess who bore the brunt?

Tears, bucketfulls shed into my pillow every night, were my solace. Angry, bitter tears that left me trembling. Then I'd get up in the morning, smile in place, everything alright with the world.

See, I believe in God and Love. In music, guardian angels and the magic of smiles. Not much else. Before then, I only trusted in the efficacy of mother's prayers (They were the only explanation for the many fires I'd walked through); Never mine. Praying, especially the mechanicalness of it, never felt right.

But one night, my head so hot I was afraid I'd implode, I whispered a few words, seemingly into the air;

"I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to care. Just take it away. Give me anything else but this".

Perhaps, if I'd asked for the ability to forgive, I'd have come out right. But I didn't want to forgive. So what I got in exchange was a numbness. The ability to let go but never give second chances. To care less. To love still but with a certain detachment that kept me from giving my all.

I came close to hating, again. But like the weight of a blood covenant, my one-time prayer-slash-unspoken pact stopped me.

Love may leave you feeling silly. A broken heart will hurt. May take a long time to heal. But hate? You're better off throwing yourself off a cliff.

By: Mfonobong Emerald Michael