A short story made long.
First, don’t worry too much about people saying that they hate you. It happens in life.
When I was in college, before I was drafted, there was a real smart guy in one of my classes, that just skewed the class curve. Everyone hated this guy. Was it because he was smarter than everyone except God? No, it was because he was a self righteous little prick, about it. (I am not in any way inferring you are). Even so, I never said, “I hate you” to him. In fact, I never said anything at all to him.
It was our fate to meet again in basic training. As our company was double-timing back from the rifle range, about 8 miles, this guy fell back through the ranks from the first platoon, all the way back to the third platoon. He was now running with me and two other guys, the last rank of our company. (I didn’t even know he was in the company and had not seen him.) It was our job to “help” the stragglers maintain the pace, so that they would not fall back into the company behind us. I will let you imagine what techniques we were encouraged to employ.
I could have gotten even for my lower grade, by administering some physical therapy, but being the nice guy that I am, I actually helped this guy. I took his pack and carried it for him. The other two guys took his weapon and his helmet. After he ran (with no weight) for another mile or so, he started to fall back even more. Two of us started to drag him along, but with his weight and carrying his equipment, we all started to straggle. The CO saw what was happening and stopped the company. What the CO did to this guy was a little brutal, but they let him a ride back to the barracks. Just as the jeep was leaving, he looked at me and said, “F*** you, I hate you”. What reason could he have to hate me? Beyond me.
That night, his unit put a blanket over him and then threw him down a couple of flights of stairs. They broke his arm and he had to do a few extra weeks of basic training. I didn’t see him again while we were in the Army.
A few years after I got out of the Army, I ran into this guy in a bar one night. He recognized me, and came over and told me what a rotten prick I was for making him get the shit beat out of him in basic training. I had nothing to do with the fact that he was a punk and a quitter, or that his platoon beat the crap out of him. I and was about to go off on him, but the owners of the bar threw him out.
Not long after the bar incident, I was visiting a friend from work, and he introduced me to his next door neighbor, a very attractive single lady. It turned out to be a very nice experience, and we had many afternoon delights.
A few days after meeting this lovely lady, I ran into this guy in another bar, and he again starts his “I hate you” crap, so I, as you say, knocked his ass into next month. End of story, right? Not on your life!
I met this guy one more time, two days later. He still had a fat lip and a black eye, when he walked in on me, doing his mother on her couch, during one of our trysts. I had already beat the shit out of him once, so he didn’t do anything, except, you guessed it, say, “I hate you”.
So, kid, if someone is going to hate you, at least give ‘em a good reason!