Confession # 40
I can mean.
Really mean, and mean in very clever ways, so I not only hurt but I also humiliate the one who has invoked my wrath.
The strange thing is "mean" is not a word anyone really uses to describe me. Most people find me to be very sweet and kind, maybe that is why when I am mean it is so much more painful. It is unexpected, shocking and heartbreaking. I have brought grown men to tears, and taken away the ability to speak from many women, all with a stoic look upon my face, and smile in my eyes.
Sometimes my clever meanness is so wickedly clever that I celebrate it. I am proud of it. No one but me would ever think of such a thing, and everyone I tell about it pats me on the back for being so smart and witty. They laugh and smirk and tell me how good it was of me to do such a thing since I only do mean things to bad people.
Bad people who I once loved and cared very deeply for, bad people who I gave myself completely to and only asked for them to love and care for me in return. Bad people who are not really bad people, but who I am just really mad at and I want them to hurt as much as I hurt. People who I still really do love and care very deeply for. People who I miss and want back in my life.
I guess what this confession is trying to do is explain that if I am mean to you in a wickedly clever way and I have hurt you beyond repair, it is because I once or still do love you, and I am afraid that letting you back in my life will only cause me more pain. My cleverly wicked meanness is a force field which neither one us can penetrate even with the most heartfelt apology so we are lost to each other forever.
I don't like it when I am mean.
Really mean, and mean in very clever ways, so I not only hurt but I also humiliate the one who has invoked my wrath.
The strange thing is "mean" is not a word anyone really uses to describe me. Most people find me to be very sweet and kind, maybe that is why when I am mean it is so much more painful. It is unexpected, shocking and heartbreaking. I have brought grown men to tears, and taken away the ability to speak from many women, all with a stoic look upon my face, and smile in my eyes.
Sometimes my clever meanness is so wickedly clever that I celebrate it. I am proud of it. No one but me would ever think of such a thing, and everyone I tell about it pats me on the back for being so smart and witty. They laugh and smirk and tell me how good it was of me to do such a thing since I only do mean things to bad people.
Bad people who I once loved and cared very deeply for, bad people who I gave myself completely to and only asked for them to love and care for me in return. Bad people who are not really bad people, but who I am just really mad at and I want them to hurt as much as I hurt. People who I still really do love and care very deeply for. People who I miss and want back in my life.
I guess what this confession is trying to do is explain that if I am mean to you in a wickedly clever way and I have hurt you beyond repair, it is because I once or still do love you, and I am afraid that letting you back in my life will only cause me more pain. My cleverly wicked meanness is a force field which neither one us can penetrate even with the most heartfelt apology so we are lost to each other forever.
I don't like it when I am mean.
posted by BrazenlyBad at 7:01 PM
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