Weak

I hate getting emotional. Don’t get me wrong. There’s a time and a place. What I’m referring to is the situation where you probably shouldn’t take something to heart, yet it still slices deep. 

I found myself staring blankly ahead, elbows on my desk, hands squeezing my head like a vice, repeating, “You don’t treat people like that.” 

You don’t. 

And now I’m dwelling on it, my body shuddering, trying to choke down the sobs. 

It’s great that you came to tell me your frustrations. Equally awful that you left in a storm. Why couldn’t we have a civilized conversation? Instead I’m left in shambles because I take it personally. If you could have just told me it was a problem that you’d like to see addressed, I could do something about it or explain to you where I’m coming from. Maybe then we could figure out a happy medium. 

But no, you go on as if nothing happened. Steamrolling people is banal, definitely typical behavior. 

I hate that I get worked up about it, to the point that I can’t have this discussion without you feeling like you’ve won because I’m weak. I’m not weak; I’m human. 

Grow up and do your job. I refuse to walk on eggshells around you. It’s not fair. This is the real world. You don’t treat people like that. Don’t harp on me about being professional. It was really classy when you walked away saying you weren’t going to do your job anymore. 

With that I’m done. I’ll have this conversation and I won’t cry. I’ll suck it up and be professional. I’m not going to let you belittle me and get away with it. 

I appreciate the note left for me. “Don’t let it get you down. Every day is a new day. Chin up!” It’s true. I’m not going to let it get me down. I’m bigger than that. I will hold my head high. I’m moving on.

I hear the tone in your voice. You see that look in my eyes. I think you’re missing the point. You think I’ve lost my mind
I don’t care who started this. Drop the attitude. You don’t have to win. It’s not me against you. We can start again.
–Fireflight

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