Love in Theory: An Exchange

Transactional humans are everywhere. Authenticity follows them like a lost shadow, it never catches up. Yet, their claims of love for others sing in praises themed "Alleluia" up towards the sky where even God runs to hide His face, for He does not champion misuse. Users of the alien kind, pretense is their most formidable trait, engulfed by gullible halos that lurk and prowl. Credulous victims, the ones who still believe in life are usually their prey.

Their offers to help should be taken as lightly as a grain of salt. Distasteful at most, dealing with them always feels like you are surrounded by bitter walls. Negotiations with transactional people spark an onset of giant beads of sweat because your mind wanders to a time where they will count that favor and remind you of it in the most vicious of ways. Your anxiety heightens just at the thought of reproach and so, before you ask, you have already concocted a cocktail of exchange, to dress the future wound that would be inflicted if there was nothing for them to gain. 

The saddest reality is that for most of us, transactional people are our mothers, fathers, aunts, sisters, brothers, our friends. They dish out smiles, but you must pay for the food they serve. Before you eat, you must look over your back and always be willing to leave a tip. They do nothing for nothing, best come with your reward in a transparent bag so they can see. 

Unfortunately, we may not always be able to avoid transactional human beings particularly the branches of our generational trees, instead we tolerate them and keep our savings piled high for future transactions. However, if you have nothing to give in return, fear them and run!