The opposite of love is not hate, that would be too easy. If that were the case breakups would not be so heated and complicated. Emotionally driven displays of dominance over property and such are proof positive that the emotions involved in separation are not the opposite of love – hate is too passionate an emotion to he love’s polar cousin.
So what then?
I am writing this problem, not living it. Again, it was one of those situations in the vastness of this story that sort of just showed up. I’ll tell you, at times I am not sure who is writing this book – me or the muse that sometimes possesses my brain.
Okay, so two of my characters (not main characters, well not yet anyway) were once married. One of them is still hopelessly devoted to the other, but the other is showing something else entirely which really made me puzzle over the original statement made in this entry. What is the opposite of love?
The way she (Dema, her name is Dema) is toward him (Franklin) is not cold, not cruel, not distant. It is something I have only experienced once a long time ago, but it was my emotion I was feeling.
I saw a former love in the grocery store. We exchanged pleasantries and such- she was not the person who ended this coupling, it was me so perhaps that has something to do with it but it was a fascinating turn of events.
It was not a lack of attraction, she was still a pretty young lady, and it was not anger, malace, hate or any other negative emotion. It was something that I shared with Dema toward Franklin – it was indifference. The absence of emotion is the closest thing I can think of to explain it.
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