Unapologetically Artistic

2. Love and hate are the same emotion, it just depends on how
it’s received.
Love was never something I was able to understand. I was
fine with that, though, because I knew the people that said the “L
word” to express their emotions about another living thing
couldn’t identify or understand it either. I was fifteen and slightly
clever and utterly clueless. I still couldn’t understand the
differences between the descriptions of the emotions love and
hate. To say this sounds tremendously idiotic. Most people would
describe love as an “extreme like” and hate as an “extreme dislike,”
but both are so much more intricate and complex emotions with a
far more vast intensity than just “like” and “dislike.” I saw them as
things that were purposefully made to be outlandishly similar to
complicate the difficulty of being human even further.
Understanding the differences between the two visible definitions
was almost as difficult as defining them, because in action both
were portrayed as delusion, distraction, elaborate obsession, and
the overspending of well-earned money.
Again on my usual journey home, I sat at the bus stop and
waited. What I was waiting for I didn’t know. A miracle, some
hand to reach down from the Heavens, the bus? A girl far more
noticeable than I have ever been took a seat next me. How she
wasn’t driving a cherry red Lamborghini was beyond my mental
capacity. She belonged on the cover of a magazine, but instead
posed next to me at a bus stop in the middle of the afternoon, in
the typical unenjoyable weather of the season. Then, a truck
pulled up the street, windows rolled down, full of boys, smelling
like the seventies, and stopped at the red light. A heavily dented
truck, caked in dirt, and clearly filled beyond capacity with stupidly
libidinous boys. They whistled, honked, taunted, and yelled dirty
phrases at the girl so grammatically incorrectly it’s not worth the
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