Would I have done it? I don’t know.

I am well aware of my flaws.  Any time you may ask yourself, “Does she know that she (fill in the blank)?”  The answer is, “Yes. Yes I do.”  I have either learned to deal with my flaws, or I cringe along with you when they surface, or I am doing it on purpose to annoy you.  I’ll let you try to decide which is which. 

There are many people out there, though, that are completely ignorant of their flaws, or of the fact that they have any flaws at all.  It’s like there is a black hole in their brain where this self-awareness should be.  You could draw diagrams and flow charts illustrating their flaws with video evidence to back it all up and they would still look at you and say, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”  Denial of that magnitude should be considered an Olympic event. 

Considering my flaws, I would be very surprised if they were enough to make someone hate me.  Dislike, barely tolerate or be indifferent, yes.  But hate?  Knowing my criteria for hating someone, I really hope not. 

It takes a lot for me to actually hate a person.  You could annoy the ever-livin’ crap out of me, but I still might not hate you.  I have only ever really hated one person.  There was another that came close, but really I just loathe her.  She was a former co-worker and had no redeeming qualities that I could tell, but I can’t say that I hate her.  Hate is more personal.  I didn’t know her well enough to actually hate her. 

No, the only person I’ve ever actually hated is, of course, my former step-father, Al.  I don’t have any reservations or feel any guilt in hating him, either.  It is a pure, crystalline emotion that is entirely justified.  He is also the only person that I have seriously threatened to kill. 

You see, he drank all the milk.  Cardinal sin #1.  Everyone knows that you leave Amy some milk.  Mom used to buy two gallons at a time to ensure that there would be enough to satisfy my requirements as well as some for the occasional bowl of cereal that someone else might want.  I drank milk at every meal and had cereal every morning. 

On the morning in question, it was a weekend and I was in my early teens.  Al woke before me and consumed a massive bowl of Rice Krispies with chocolate syrup (classy, I know) which required the last of the milk.  I arose around noonish, poured myself a bowl of cereal and when I opened the fridge door, I noticed there was no milk.  I shrugged it off and trucked on down to the basement fridge where we kept the back-up beverages.  This fridge was sans milk as well.  I felt the rage welling up from my core, but I suppressed it.  I knew that to win this argument, I would have to be calm.  Scary calm. 

Back upstairs, I confronted Al sitting in his recliner watching television.  We had a dialogue that basically consisted of me informing him that he had consumed the last of the milk so I needed more now and him replying that he would go get some later.  We continued back and forth in this manner for a few minutes until I realized that it was getting me nowhere. 

So, I walked into the kitchen and removed the largest knife we owned from the block on the counter.  I returned and pointed the knife at his chest. 

“Get the milk now, or I will kill you.”

His eyes widened and he laughed nervously.  “What are you going to do with that?  Put it away.”

I didn’t put it away.  I threatened him again.  And then again.  I didn’t yell.  I looked him in the eye and threatened his life.  It didn’t take long before he put on his shoes and left for the store.  I sat in his chair and waited.  I allowed myself a satisfied smile.  When he returned I put the knife away and enjoyed my bowl of cereal. 

Taken out of context, this sounds like the story of a psycho brat from hell.  To explain to you all that transpired prior to that moment, the psychological torture, the physical advances, would take too long and you still wouldn’t fully understand at the end of it.  So, you will just have to trust me when I say that my actions were justified.   

To deeply hate changes a person just as much as falling deeply in love.  We all know the crazy things that love makes us do.  I hope you never have to find out what hate will make you do.  You can’t un-know that side of yourself once it has been uncovered.