Despite being in so much pain, despite the fact I’m free-falling….despite the fact they want me dead, despite the fact they took so many from me, despite the trauma they caused me, despite the fact I should have ever had to know what it feels like to be raped by a corkscrew…kidnapped and tortured…heartbroken from a lost baby…starved…despite all of this, I do not hate them. Not really. I feel hurt, I feel angry. But I don’t feel hate. If I had the chance to speak to them, properly, I’d tell them this.
Why? Because hate is not natural. I was not born with the capacity to hate. Neither were they. We are all born with the ability to love but hate is something we learn, and therefore I can choose to just not learn. Hate eats your soul. Turns the world black, and doesn’t solve a thing. It leaves you feeling miserable, lost with such a powerfully damaging emotion with nothing productive that can come from it. It destroys you, and others.
If I was to hate them, then I would only be playing along with their game. They won’t give a damn about what I think about them. But if I hate them, and make myself miserable with that hatred, then I am still simply being their toy.
So many of them are lost, so many of them have never and will never experience genuine happiness, laughter, love. I pity them. I am more powerful than them because I refuse to be blinded by hate and anger.
I don’t hate them. I won’t be their toy. I won’t play along with their game. So, I don’t hate them.