I read the book, but I'm afraid I may have failed the exam... I could give you excuses, because I was (and still am) overtired, and it has been a very long week, but that doesn't really get me off the hook. My reactions to circumstances are my responsibility and I must own them. I may have prevailed over a missed airline flight, but perhaps I failed when poorly chosen words touched a painful, oozing wound. I tried to answer rightly, but the throbbing ache prevailed, and though I didn't lash out in the way I once might have, I lashed out just the same. What began as a week of rest and refreshment, has ended terribly bad in spite of apologies on both sides.
The "toucher of my wound" did not intend to cause me pain or grief, I knew that to start with, but isn't that often the way? How many times have I spoken a word or given a look that sent an unseen and unintended dagger into the heart of someone? Even someone I love?
All too often, I'm afraid...
I have excuses and explanations, of course, but all of those matter very little right now. They don't heal the wounds, my own wounds, that festered to start with, and they are not a salve for these fresh wounds either. It doesn't matter that exhaustion or frustration play a part on either side, and it doesn't matter that one or both of us feel "trumped" by the other.
I have a headache and am infinitely more exhausted that I was Tuesday morning when I woke up in my own bed after my arrival home at 1am.
Saturday Blues Mobile-Andrea Van Cleef.
52 minutes ago
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