I Hate You

Written By: Mel


“I hate you!” Even as I yelled it out, running from the house with the door slamming behind me, I knew I didn’t mean it. But for those few moments, I didn’t want to be with him. After all if he was going to send me away, why not just leave now?

The day had been a good one up until Paul told me the news. It was Tuesday, my last class had ended early and I had only one paper left to finish before spring break officially began on Friday. I was really looking forward to a week of laziness, with no school work to think about. I had originally asked Paul about taking the week off with me but he said it was not possible as two of the family practitioners he worked with had already booked the week off. So I had planned instead on having some fun with friends. I even planned to do some domestic stuff, like cooking nice dinners for my man. But now that wasn’t going to happen cuz he was sending me away.

I was in the kitchen working on making a salad when I heard the sound of Paul’s key in the lock. He walked into the kitchen through the attached mud room, tossed his keys in the basket and threw me a smile.

“Hey, beautiful. How was your day?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around me. We shared a deep kiss before we went on to talk about some of the highlights of our day.

Paul washed his hands, then pulled the chicken out of the fridge and we worked together to get our dinner prepared. As we worked and talked I happened to mention how much I was looking forward to being off school next week.

“Well I have a surprise for you for Spring Break,” he said with a grin.

Immediately jumping to conclusions, I threw my arms around him and kissed him. “You got it off, didn’t you? Are we going away, somewhere hot and sunny?” I asked excitedly.

Paul pulled back a little, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s not quite the surprise I meant. I’m afraid I still have to work. However you’re going to get to go away for the week.”

“Going away without you?” I asked suddenly suspicious.

“Yes; I was talking with Dr. Silver, the Endocrinologist from Guelph Memorial and he was telling me about Camp Huronda near Huntsville . It’s a summer camp for children with Type 1 diabetes. This year they are offering a special program during the spring break for young adults who have been recently diagnosed. There will be teaching and counselling sessions, as well as the opportunity to talk with others your age that are going through the same adjustments you are. It sounds like it will be informative as well as fun. I understand the lake is very beautiful. Though it’s still to cold for swimming, they do have a lot of activities planned. There was only one space left open so we were lucky to get you booked in. I thought we’d drive up together on Saturday morning and I’d pick you up the following Saturday when it’s over.”

Paul stood there looking at me with this big dumb smile on his face and all I could think of was that he was sending me away to camp like some bratty kid whose parents needed a break.

I pushed out of his arms. “How could you?” I asked incredulously. “How could you agree to this without even talking to me? You’re just going to send me away so you can do what? Have a break from me? Get rid of the pain in the ass brat for a week?”

Paul’s face looked stunned. He’d obviously thought I was stupid enough to want to go along with this.

“Danny, calm down. That’s not how I feel and you know it,” he stated calmly. “I thought this was a great opportunity and that you would enjoy it. I also know you that still have a great deal to learn about living with diabetes and that this will do you a lot of good.”

“Do me good or you good?” I shouted. “I’m not some little kid you can just fucking ship off to camp!”

“Daniel Seaforth Ladd, watch that mouth of yours or you’ll be shipped off to bed with a sore backside,” he warned. “Now let’s sit down and talk about this like adults”

“I know you’re kind of sit down! You talk and I listen, then I still get shipped off. Well you can just stuff it cuz I’m not going to spend my spring break at any fucking kids' camp!”

Now my Paul is nothing but consistent in his means of dealing with rude and disrespectful behaviour. Before I could draw my next breath, I found myself turned over his upturned knee with a half dozen stinging swats applied to the seat of my jeans. I was then pulled upright and frog marched to the corner of the kitchen.

“You can stand there until you can calm down and talk to me reasonably,” he said.

I stood there fuming silently. Instead of calming down as I might normally have, I found myself growing more and more angry with my partner. I could hear the sounds of Paul efficiently finishing the dinner preparations and somehow his calm nature only served to ignite my volatile one. I heard the chicken dish being placed into the oven, then the sound of a chair being pulled out from the table as he took a seat.

“Are you ready to be civil now?” he asked.

I turned around and saw him sitting there so calmly and decided immediately without benefit of further discussion that he was going to send me to this cursed camp, like it or not and I was not going to have any part in that. “No I’m not! If you want rid of me, fine, I’m leaving. I hate you!” I screamed as I ran through the mud room and out the side door, slamming it in my wake.

I fumbled in my jeans pocket for the keys to my Civic, and was just trying to yank the door open when two strong arms wrapped around me. He pulled me tightly against his body with his chin resting on my head, his voice deep and steady.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

Let me tell you, there is nothing more disarming than hearing ‘I love you’ right after you’ve shouted ‘I hate you’ at someone. It took less than five seconds for the tears to seep from my eyes. I barely remember him walking me back to the house other than almost laughing between my tears as I realized I’d run out in my stocking feet. Paul guided me to the living room and pulled me down on the couch beside him.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” I snivelled at him.

“I know, darling, it’s going to be okay,” he answered as he held me. After a few minutes, he asked. “Danny, have I ever done anything that made you think I wanted a break from you? That I ever considered you to be a pain?”

All I could manage was a wimpy, “No” in response.

“Whatever could make you think I wanted rid of you?”

I had no decent answer to give him. I’d done what I’d done so many times in the past, jumped to a conclusion without thinking. I had allowed my own insecurities to presume this wonderful man felt about me the way I too often felt about myself. Paul has worked so hard to assure me I am deserving of his love but I’m afraid what he calls my self-deprecating nature had won out again.

We talked for the next two hours, first on the couch, then over dinner, then in his office. We discussed the camp and looked it up on the web site. Paul was right, it did look great. By the time we were done I was getting excited about going. Though I’d miss Paul terribly, I knew this was an experience I would both enjoy and gain a lot from.

Once we had worked through all the camp issues, Paul led me from the spare chair at his desk to sit with him on the old leather sofa in the office. I began to feel the butterflies churning in my stomach as he gave me that serious look of his.

“We have a bit of unfinished business here, don’t we?” he asked.

Oh God how I hated this part; when he’d want to talk about my behaviour and why I was about to get my ass beat. (Okay, he’d really object to that terminology, but who’s telling this story, huh?) “Yeah, I know,” I whispered.

“Do we need to discuss being rude and disrespectful of each other again? How it belittles our partnership and demeans both of us?” he inquired.

“No, I’m sorry,” was all I could think of to say.

“I know you are, baby. Let’s get this done.” He guided me to my feet and undid my jeans sliding them down my legs along with my shorts. Then, with that terrible efficiency of his, I found myself stretched over his lap, face buried in a pillow on the couch, hands gripping the leather cushion in anticipation of what was coming. He wasted no more time and went straight to work spanking my butt and the tops of my thighs with hard sharp swats. It wasn’t the worst spanking I’d ever had but neither was it a light one. We had covered this territory before and he wasn’t about to let me off easy. By the time he was done, I crying freely and promising never ending respectfulness.

This story took place a year and a half ago. I had every bit as wonderful an experience at Camp Huronda that spring as Paul thought I would. So much so, that I have been a volunteer councillor there for the last two summers. The kids are great and it’s such a joy knowing we’re giving them the opportunity to just be kids and put aside for a while the fact that they have a difference from their peers. Though I miss Paul while I’m at the camp, I know I come home to him a better person for the experiences I have there.

And just for the record, I have never said “I hate you” to that wonderful man again.

The End

Note: Camp Huronda is a real camp for Diabetic Children located near Huntsville Ontario providing kids a joyous summer experience since 1954. Although the spring young adult camp from this story is fictional, there are similar programs offered in other facilities.