Love. Hate.
Love; noun. A strong feeling of warmth for another person or thing. Hate; noun. A strong feeling of dislike of someone or something.
Two words, with entirely different meanings, different connotations, different reactions. Yet two words which were constantly used to describe her relationship with this man. Some days it's love; they get along great, and enjoy the each others company without hold backs. Other days its hate, as they bicker throughout the work day, leaving the second the second hand ticks over five in the fear that the extra time might spark something which would not be put out easily.
At first it was simple. It was hate. She hated his guts, his girls, his lifestyle, his mannerisms. She hated nearly everything about him.
But something changed. Now she's considering love.
He phones her and vice versa constantly, it's like they can't go through one day without conversing with the other person, even it's the weekend. He calls, she'll reply that she's really too busy using her weekend to catch up on chores and maintain whatevers left over of her social life and hang up, only to call back an hour later to apologize. They talk for hours on end, only hanging up when one realizes the time of the night and reminds the other of work the next morning. They do it nearly everyday that they're not fighting. And if they miss a day they begin to worry. Love.
But then he steals her personal items, sometimes just to get a rise out of her and it never fails. Not once. He taunts her, she bites, and they quarrel, sometimes lasting more than a day. The longest was five. The silence in the office that week was refreshing; to their boss anyway. No matter how hard he then tries to make it up, she won't stand for it. Hate.
They go out to dinner at least once a week by themselves, without the rest of the team or any other outside friends. They try to go to somewhere different each time. They spend hours at the restaurant, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind during that time. When they're together it seems like time just flies, and neither of them want the nights to end. She tries talking him into letting her pay each time, but she fails every time, he insists on paying; ‘because of the gentleman I am' he reasons. She laughs, but gives in anyway. Maybe she's falling. Love.
But then he'll do something or say something incredibly stupid, something that would offend her and hurt her so deeply and she'll reconsider again. She'll ask herself if it really is worth it, she'll ask herself if he could really change, could really be the one that she'll love. He'll hurt her, sometimes to get her hard because she got him, and sometimes completely oblivious to it until he looks into her eyes. But by then, the damage is done. And she wants nothing to do with him for that. Hate.
She's confused. Love. Hate. She doesn't know what's happened to their relationship over the years, but she knows it's changed for the better. She's constantly being reminded of how he makes her smile, of how sometimes; he's the only one who can lift her up again after she stumbles, especially after the hard ones. She thinks its love. She doubts its hate. She checks, time and again for some one else she calls a friend who would do all that for her, and she can't find one.
She knows its love.
She opens up, she lets him in. Into her inner circle, into her more private life. She discovers the truth; she discovers that he cares, genuinely about her. She knows she'd do anything for him just the same, she knows, that she cares, genuinely about him. And now they both know.
It's Love.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Love Hate, two words, conflicting meanings, yet perfect to describe what they have.