“Do you ever feel you’ve become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora’s box of all the secret, hateful parts your arrogance, your spite your condescension has sprung open?” -You’ve Got Mail
I like to think I have a semi-reasonable personality.
I worked hard the past year to be temperate. To let the little things slide. To not let other people’s stupid comments get to me.
And they don’t. Well, at least until today.
Because today I sat by somebody I loathed, somebody that has earned every spiteful feeling I want to throw at them. Somebody that makes me feel like kicking puppies and punching holes in the wall. I felt like standing on my chair and screaming “Scuuummmm of the earthhhhh!”, but instead I sat in that ugly brown chair, biting my cheek, trying to keep every mean thought to myself.
The ironic part is that this person didn’t even hurt me.
It turns out that when I care about somebody more than I care about myself, people can chuck stones and and scream profanities in MY face, and I’ll shirk it off without a second thought…but touch somebody I care about and I’ll go all Cruella De Ville on you.
It’s not my right to be angry, I know. I’ve always held the theory that being angry doesn’t do any good, it just makes for a miserable person.
I know about turning the other cheek, letting it go and not letting it be my problem.
Despite that, I’m going to have a really sore mouth the next few weeks from clamping it shut.
Kthxbye, I’m off to punch some stuffed animals.