Om att inte älskar

During my shower five minutes ago, I was pondering on dislike. The emotion of dislike. What is the difference between dislike and hate? I know that there are dictionary explanations of the subtle differences. But is there really any difference in the way dislike feels vis a vis what hatred feels like. Känner man annorlunda när man hatar någon eller dislikes them? I do not think so. I think the one is what we tell ourselves we do when we do not want to appear "evil" in other people's eyes. But the truth is that we really hate them. If we said the H- word though, we would be labelling ourselves as unforgiving and mean people. (Which we really are, coz of the feelings deep inside where no one can see.) But of course we do not want others to know that we are "bad". 

So we keep on lying to others, and eventually, a lie told often enough becomes the truth, especially to the liar. 

What got me thinking about this dark subject? Though I must admit I do not find it very dark. Well, my feelings towards someone. In te beginning, I wanted us to be friends. I thought it would be cool. Sharing a life, me helping to explain tings, supporting when support was needed and laughing when that was called for. 

In the course of the past year, things have been done, said to my face and behind my back that have completely eroded any kind of trust. In the beginning, all was supposed to be good. I did not understand swedish and all was fine. Then slowly, I began to understand. And neither one of them knew how much I really understood. One time, sitting at the table, she smiled across to him and said something really mean and nasty about me. My heart was crushed as I realised that this had probably gone on for a long time. I was the stupid duck sitting at the table and smiling along when they smiled. Little knowing that I could have been smiling about a crude and mean comment about me. More of these happened. The swearing, the demands for things, things and more things. The inability to appreciate, no, lets say the ability to chew out and spit, with all sorts of profanities her own father after their shopping sprees and the terror she brought into the home. All this has slowly but surely eroded all the love, understanding and all I ever felt. Sometmes there is a flash of the love I had at first. But then it is quickly reminded of the hope that has been crushed under the sole of a dirty shoe once too often. 

I have unfortunately, no, actually that is a hypocritical "unfortunately". I have come to at the best feel numb and at the worst loathe her. I feel a little sad sometimes. But I believe I tried and have been abused so many times, and seen how others have been manipulated and abused, that I needed to preserve myself. So I started to take myself out of the equation. But I need to take myself out more. Just have not figured out how to do that. In the meantime, I live with someone, who I feel less for than the neighbour downstairs. And it all began with a mean word, then a shout about how I am not her mother, and several attempts to emotionally bully and put me down... even infront of company.