A Feeling of Hurt

Feelings get hurt. It is inevitable and still the hurt is just the same, just as raw. It never ceases to amaze me that the people who get their feelings hurt the easiest and most often are generally the same people who do the majority of the hurting to others. They walk around not caring about much more than themselves most of the time, but when something doesn’t go their way, the world is supposed to come to a screeching halt and we are all supposed to do whatever we can as to make them feel better.

There always seems to be an excuse for these people and their behavior. They are too busy or have things more difficult to deal with than the rest of us. Or, we just don’t know all that they have going on in their busy, stressful lives, as if it is fair to compare one persons life struggles to another. As if there is any good excuse for hurting someone’s feelings knowingly. For some reason, these people, and the people enabling them, think that this behavior is okay. That it can be made okay. That it is acceptable. That it is forgivable.

As if the reasons excuses for the hurtful behavior can be made to seem okay.

They are mistaken. Some things are not easily forgiven or forgotten. Some hurt feelings just don’t feel better with time. Sometimes there are not enough I’m sorrys in the whole wide world to make things better. There is always a bruise or scar to remember by.  Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me why you did what you did, just that you did it knowingly and unapologetically. If I were you, I would be ashamed.

Even apologies that come later, much later and much, much too late, can’t erase the pain. Sometimes words alone can’t undo a wrong. Your behavior is still, always, louder than your apology.

Just like all memories, this one will be remembered. There will be a time when you need someone. When you want someone to be there for you. When you will have something really important you want people to be happy about, to share in. When your feelings get hurt. It will be unfortunate, and you will look at me badly, because I won’t be there.

I will not forget this time, along with all the others, and that wound will be fresh all over again. I will not worry about your feelings. This time, unlike all of the others, I will not worry more about yours than mine.


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