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Hate Is A Bad Word

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HATE

This site is about sex and seduction. So why would I write a post about HATE? Only because it is Fandango’s theme for today. I am all “don’t hate, just love”. Hate is such a waste of energy.

The list of things I hate is very short. Even things I don’t like (Marmite and wasabi spring to mind) I tend not to use the word hate about. It’s such a strong word. Because it is such a strong word, I am very reluctant to use it about anybody I know. Sure there have been people that I didn’t get on with. I could reel off to you a list of people who left a bad taste because they were kind of nasty. I guess I hate nastiness.

I reckon it is because I don’t like hatred that I have tried to end any relationship that was not going well on a sweet note. I don’t like to end things all bitter and twisted. I like to walk away on a friendly basis. There are some vengeful folk out there. I know people who have not been able to let go of emotional hurt, so they have published naked pictures of their ex, made threats, spread malicious rumours – yaddah yaddah!

My theory on hate is that sometimes love can be so intense, and that when things go wrong, the extreme feelings that someone had when they were in love, the disappointment can be so immense it can tip them over to hatred. So in a way, the hate they feel is an indicator that they formerly had an intense love. They just have not learnt that when things go wrong, the extreme feelings that led to intense love need to be allowed to soften and fade, not become something vicious and ugly and damaging.

Even when I was stinging I did not ever want to let myself become warped like that. Hate is not good. Just walk away, walk away. The art of breaking up with someone who you don’t love is an important one to master. Ending a relationship should be given some thought so that the other person does not end up losing their mind wondering what they did wrong. Whenever I have broken up with a guy (I dated guys and realized it was never going to work, so before it got serious, I always ended it) I would try to be prepared mentally with all the positives about him, and make sure the reason I knew we were not a match was clear in my head. There was always a reason.

There is a post I wrote last week that I have schedule to be published in December. It mentions three men I dated, but never slept with, Pete, Cameron and Benedict, and two guys who I had a physical relationship with my first boyfriend Jamie and another guy who only wanted me for my breasts (he inspired the character “Greg” in our novellas). When I broke up with Pete, he took it really badly. Even though I tried to make the spilt as sweet as could be, he ended up with a vendetta against me, which just confirmed it was the right decision to me.

Cameron seemed a little disappointed. He was so hot, I don’t think he understood why I wasn’t into him. He worked out at the gym everyday and he had rippling muscles and a stomach like a draining board. I managed to help Cameron see why it was not going to work, meaning he and I stayed friends.

Benedict would have ended things with me if I had not got there first. I knew we were irritating each other. We ended up disagreeing on so many subjects that dating each other was becoming embarrassing. You know how sometimes you can be arguing with a guy and passion rises up and you suddenly want him to shag you as hard as he can. Well, it was the opposite with Benedict. He had this condescending side to him. Ben has just read my post and told me not to diss Benedict because he likes him a lot. The things is, when I did say to Benedict I did not want to date him anymore, I knew he felt the same way. We are still friendly. We have a lot of the same friends (including Ben) and we still get invited to the same events.

Breaking up with Jamie was hard. It’s hard to talk about even now. At first I thought he hated me, but it turned out he just needed time to get over the shock. We did avoid hate. He is one of the people I know I could pick up the phone and ask for help any time of night if I was ever in trouble. We send a handful of messages each year, to check up on each other. But we don’t feed what could have been.

The break up with the guy who was the inspiration for “Greg”, there was no hate. He sends me emails still telling me how much he misses my breasts. (Ben monitors those messages.) That was the problem really. He was only interested in my breasts, not me. There is more to me than stunning boobs. Not the least is my perfect pussy, which he neglected. Perhaps out of appreciation for the fact he gave me some of the best nipple orgasms I have ever known, I still wanted to make sure that we did not hate each other when we broke up. Hate is a bad word.

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2 replies on “Hate Is A Bad Word”

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