So J turned to me and asked me if I have ever hated my friends.
“Of course I have. That’s normal,” I said, quite perplexed with his question.
“No, I mean, for no reason at all,” he explained. I looked up and studied him for a moment. Something’s eating this guy, I thought. You don’t normally ask such question for no apparent reason.
“Have you been taking drugs?” I mused. J’s expression didn’t waver. He was determined to extract an honest-to-goodness answer from me.
“Okay, well, I don’t think so. You only hate someone if they did something that you didn’t like. Why do you ask?”
No reason, he told me. Maybe just out of curiosity. Totally uncalled for, he added.
“I wish they’d hurry up. I hate the long wait,” J said, referring to his order. He obviously wanted to change the subject and I myself didn’t rally to it. He was the one who brought up the unusual topic anyway. Besides, I was hungry and I wasn’t in the mood to discuss serious things over dinner. I knew however that sooner or later, the same topic would eventually come up. That’s how it’s always like with J.
Sure enough, as I was about to have my second helping of rice, he spoke. “Say, there was this one time when I hated a friend. He didn’t do anything bad. I just didn’t want to talk to him or even see him. Worse, thinking about him made me want to attack him. I felt like if I punched him, I’d feel better.”
I just gave him a non-committal grunt.
“Is that all you have to say?” he asked.
“There has to be a rational reason, J. You just can’t go and hate people like that. They’d think you’re nuts,” I reasoned out, slightly annoyed.
“Maybe, I am,” J replied.
I squinted my eyes at him. The confession seemed out of character on him. J’s a funny guy. He rarely talks about things that border on seriousness. He definitely doesn’t have the flair for the dramatic. This type of discussion only happens (and rarely too) when he’s drunk. But J apparently was sober. I glanced at my watch. It’s 9 in the evening. The signage at the door said “Closed.” Outside, a drizzle began to fall. J’s plate was already empty. So much for making an assumption that something’s bothering him. He’s not depressed, I’m sure, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to finish his order that fast.
“I hate hating them without any valid reason. And I hate making up reasons to make my hatred valid. You know what I mean?” Oh no, he’s definitely on a roll. There’s no stopping this guy, I thought. “Maybe, I don’t want to be friends with them anymore. Me hating them only means I don’t need them,” J continued.
“You’re just being dramatic, that’s all. Sort of an ennui – you know, being lonely without any reason,” I said.
“No, this is different. Suppose I’ll tell you upfront that I hate you, what are you gonna do?” he asked.
“Easy. I’ll hate you too.”
“That easy? You won’t even ask why?”
“No. I’ve enough friends so losing one won’t hurt.” I was just kidding of course.
“Thank you. Just what I wanted to hear.” J was dead serious.
I replied by shrugging my shoulders.