Hating someone takes energy, takes time and devotion. It's a lot of work. The same is true of love, or so I hear.
But being indifferent to someone ... that's the most effective way to destroy them. Showing no emotion and dismissing someone with a "meh" is brutal. Their heart splits wide open; their hopes spill out and are dashed on the hard ground of reality. They realize they have no worth and they start to die inside. It may take years for their heart to be still, but when it finally does stop the medical examiner won't need a microscope to determine a cause of death. Indifference can't be diagnosed via a stain-tinted slide under a microscope, but it can be seen and sensed in every ignored text and email, every straight-to-voicemail phone call.
If hatred is the switchblade to the heart then indifference is the ōdachi, the massive sword that guts and decapitates. Some would say there is mercy in the sword and its swift and sure brutality. But it is an ugly weapon. It not only kills, it mutilates. Knife someone in the heart and their loved ones can still look at the corpse in the coffin. Use an ōdachi and the casket must be closed; no amount of makeup and mortician's magic can mask the cruelty inflicted by the long blade.
Today I felt the sword run through me in a deafening silence. There were no raised voices, no baleful stares, no lips turned up in disgust. Nothing happened; that's the way it is with indifference. History is rewritten. I no longer exist. I never existed in the first place.
I stepped outside and fired up a fag, looked up at the sky of slate. The rains are coming soon, I realized, and I don't have an umbrella. No matter. I'm not a sweet saint. I won't melt.