Unlove

A Story by E B Smith

When erasing love

I know all the elements of hate.

Hate is anger, deep and real.

A person who murders another is easy to hate. So is liver on my dinner plate. Hate too is anger for something lost like in death, so final and with no chance to say goodbye or forgive me. It is one part of the grieving process.

Hate is often misguided; it’s concern for the wrong reason, yet it is a form of caring.

Unlove is very different.

Unlove is to uncare, unkiss, unreach for. Unlove is to stop all effort, become indifferent. It is to undo everything once felt until there is only hard cold stone.

No lust. No feeling. No anger. No hate. Just a big empty nothing.

That is unlove.