Hate is scary. Not the kind that you scream about during an argument. The kind that happens after the argument, when there are no more arguments. Hate that is so strong, you can't think about it, because you're afraid that it will consume you; turn you into someone who is no longer a person, but an emotion. It will turn you into some monstrous being that doesn't care about anything but hate. And that hate will lead to a thirst for revenge. And that thirst will be put into action, and actions into motion, until you are ruining lives, most of all your own. Hate is powerful. Hate is dangerous. And somehow, it still exists.
Hate is so close to passion. You can feel passion for a person so great you're afraid it will carry you away. But passion isn't considered a bad thing. People throw themselves into it, breathe it in, and beg for more. But what happens when that passion turns to hate? If you're so deep in your longing and suddenly, your world shifts. And you find yourself no longer loving, but hating. Is there a way back from that? Distance might lead to forgiveness, and forgiveness may lead to forgetting. But if you can't distance yourself, it turns you into this person you don't recognize. And you worry that if you can't get away from it, you'll never be yourself again.
Logic dictates that there is a way back from most anything. And I find that logic is once again engulfing my brain and bringing me back to a place of reason. A place where there are problems and there are solutions and no matter how difficult a situation seems, there is a way to conquer it. But every once in a while, emotion grabs hold and I spiral to a place where I wonder about hate and its consequence. And I wonder if there will come a time when logic is just out of reach and I won't be able to come back.
Writing about it helps. So, I write. And writing puts the emotions on a page where I can read it, analyze it, and come back to reality. As long as I can write, I'm less afraid.
Let's hope I can always write.