I do not "on a daily basis" go around hating the man who killed my child. If I did so, I would allow him to play a part in my life, to be someone around whom my thoughts and feelings would center, and I refuse to allow him that luxury. He is no part of my life, he is a nobody, a being void of importance, someone I do not care to hear about or know anything about. He does not exist for me.
At times, the knowledge that he is out there comes to me in hours of sadness and despair of what did happen, but I manage to sidetrack the thoughts about him, in order to concentrate on the important thougths, the ones about the lost one.
But this I know, about this I am sure - if I suddenly stumble upon him, I am not at all sure about what would/will happen. The hate is not there - but the knowledge is.