I Hate Hate

Today I have for you a love letter about hate. “Is that possible?” you may ask. It is. And it’s important because the affliction affects all of us. It takes the civility out of civilization. It takes the unity out of community. And worst of all, it takes the “me” out of who I want to become.

Dear Hate,

I have a bad cold. It’s horrible. My symptoms are chills, hot flashes, a runny nose and a sore throat. I have a fever, nausea and a form of congestion that makes my head feel like a pregnant haggis. I ache. I wheeze. I can’t sleep.

I’ve tried everything to beat this cold: Chicken soup, antihistamines, hot tea with honey and whisky, vitamin C, bed rest, even a humidifier. I will do anything to kick this cold.

But all of this is nothing compared to a suffering that is much, much worse. And it’s you, Hate. It’s you. Like an epidemic of the flu, you are tearing my world apart. You are contagious. And like fighting a bad cold, I will fend you off.

My symptoms? I desire love and tolerance for myself, yet express venom toward others. I wish to be understood and accepted, yet I, myself, argue and reject. My yearning for humanity is opposed by my own inhumane behavior. I find myself quick to anger, and slow to reconciliation.

At times, I even feel I love to hate! Your rage wells up within me and I lash out. What is it about my human nature that sets me at odds, when I really wish for things to be even? It’s you, Hate. I have felt the sting of your diseased, infecting claws and I will be healed of you. The cure is not at all easy, but it will prevail, Hate. It will prevail.

When I feel the need to argue, I will instead ask questions. I will face down my own intolerance and respond with love, never ridicule. I will never more use your sharp edges to disembowel those with whom I disagree, even when I feel tempted to do so. I will no longer call myself loving and yet castigate others. Period. Exclamation point.

Hate, I hate you more than this horrible cold. I will abide no more and will be cured. I will inject you with love until you meet your death. And here’s a fair warning: My cure is contagious to those who also wish to be cured.

You might live in others, but you will not live in me, Hate. Your only hope for survival will be in those who love to hate, and who hate to love.

I am sick and I am tired of your infection, and therefore bid you adieu.

With a broad smile on my face, and a swift kick to your backside.

Sincerely yours,

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