I scare me. The fact that my happy, accommodating, peachy keen, optimistic self can crack and get angry frightens me. That I can think malicious thoughts and wish misfortune upon others horrifies me.

These times of insecurity make me question my strength and my tolerance. I think I know myself. I’m slow to anger, quick to heal. Although indifference shields me so effectively from the bullets that ambush my stable and peaceful state, maybe my greatest flaw is this indifference that creates a false impression of security and isolates me from the naturally sensitive people that surround me.

I tried letting my guard down during these past few months. I made my genuine love and care and appreciation apparent. I talked and laughed out loud without fearing the judgment of others. I smiled and made eye contact when speaking to others. Such actions did not reveal a significant change in my personality or demeanor, but as I expected, the vulnerability associated with exposing your true, weird self comes at a hefty price.

As happy as I am, Surprise! I can get hurt too, but the insults and punches weren’t the cause of my fall. I take jokes pretty well and although they say there is truth in every jest, I try not to overanalyze. Those brave enough to directly insult me deserve props for pinpointing my insecurities, but I am too aware of my own flaws to be shocked or offended by observations others make of me.

Wow someone is bitter.

So if it wasn’t the words or the hits, what caused me to fold into fetal position and blink back what was about to erupt into a facial downpour? Maybe it was the fact that you were genuinely hurt while I had trouble seeing the severity of the situation. Maybe it was the way you pushed me away, widening the gap between us that I alone have been filling in. Or perhaps it was the hatred and bitterness that radiated from your harsh actions and words that made me quiver.

In these times of insecurity, I seek solace in reticence, self-reflection, and self-pity while simultaneously abhorring the primitive and selfish nature of my thoughts. Why me? Why must I relinquish my dignity? I am the victim here.

Oh but it’s so easy to pity myself. The challenge lies in committing to the sobering truth and handing the gauntlet back to its owner regardless of the repercussions on your own pride. So here I stand, world. Accept my genuine apology.


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