The Opposite of Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

would be completely on her side.
    There was a difference between hope and belief though. Belief was based on facts. Hope was to wish. To hope for something and achieve it was to both belie and conquer the facts. Hope was irrational. And even though she did her best to steer clear of it, hope was as seductive as an all-but-forgotten drug. There was a memory to it, something that reminded her of how candy tasted as a child, like liquid sunshine, to the point that the name of a treat could be simply mentioned and the taste was immediately present—not strong enough to satisfy, only strong enough to make her want it. And that was how hope felt to Melanie. It felt like a long-ago desire; a sweet, childish wanting. But there was a part of her—what part was that exactly?—that wouldn’t let it go.
    As a woman, was it natural—even biological—to start thinking about the future as soon as the condom wrapper hit the floor? Was there some mechanism in the uterus that flipped a switch so that a voice—one that sounded suspiciously like one’s own thoughts—started asking what it might be like to build a life with the man in the bathroom flushing his sperm down the toilet? And of course, because she’d chosen each man so carefully, he was the kind of man she could see herself with. Sure, he’d have some flaws, some bad habits. In fact, he’d usually have more than she did. But Melanie could allow that no one was perfect and that his flaws made him human, just like her.
    Hope was more than optimism though. It was optimism wrapped in passionate desire and tied up in the desperate longing for something that was all but lost long ago. And it was this last part that made her feel vulnerable.
    And when hope arrived and started implying that yes, this would be a good idea, she fell for it. Every single time. It’s not that she suddenly morphed into a love-struck teenager—far from it. But she’d start looking at her man through the eyes of a benevolent benefactor, bestowing herself, her affections, her future upon him, and waiting for grateful acceptance. This was never verbal, of course. It was just a shift in thought, a slight change in focus that made the object of her affection just a little shinier than he had previously been.
    Sometimes it would take a while, and sometimes only a few weeks between this shift in her brain and the inevitable exit of her man of the hour. But during those weeks or months, hope was there, sitting in her lap, cooing softly and begging to be stroked. And when her man was gone, hope went with him. Even if it had been a short relationship, it would tear at her heart and make the world seem darker and much more sinister. There were nights spent out on her balcony, staring up at the sky, tears streaming down her face. It was never the man she mourned, as by then he’d pretty much shown her why she didn’t want him anyway. Hope was gone. A future, with someone to love daily, was gone. And every time it happened, she became more convinced that hope was not on her side.
    In her logical mind, it was simply that she wanted what her parents had—minus the untimely death. She knew it was possible to have a loving, secure relationship because she’d seen it with her own eyes. She’d seen the support they’d shown each other, the affection. She saw the team mentality with which they approached all aspects of their marriage and their children’s lives. Theirs was not a household in which a child could ask the mother for something, and if refused, play on the father. To do this was to undermine them as a team and would assure swift and severe punishment, and the girls all learned this lesson quite early. Their parents were two very different people, but their goals were the same and so they were outwardly of the same mind on virtually every issue.
    After college, Melanie still had not quite given up entirely on marriage, kids and the family ideal. Men were more interested in dating her than ever and her