I thought I understood what hate was. I'd used the word - probably numerous times, to describe a someone I disliked, who angered me or perhaps a person I just found particularly disagreeable. "God, I hate that guy," I can remember saying more than once. I had no idea what I was saying. I had no idea what hatred really entailed, until Tina. Since I'd glibly engaged in hyperbole tossing around the word hate without grasping the depth and torment of the emotion, I felt a sufficiently horrible word had not yet been devised to describe the sad, angry and ever-present black loathing I was feeling.
Hating Tina became a second full time occupation. I found that the emotion had the same fervor that my love used to, which was beyond anything I'd previously experienced. Flipping that emotion into reverse stirred up a dark side of me I was astonished and somewhat frightened to discover.
My good friend, who has heard about everything I've ever had to say about anything in the forty some years I've known him was taken aback by the vitriol I sputtered whenever I spoke about Tina. He chastised me over my choice of words.
Read the rest at the new Adventures of Dan and Tina.
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