Indeed...
Recently I have been handling the blade of wounding words as if I were a master. The reason for this I am not sure exactly, except that I truly was out of a certain medication that makes me a more pleasant person, able to handle more, able to understand more, to "put up with" more... Without those lovely psychotropic pills, I can become quite a bore and a witch, besides.
For years, I have dealt with other people who are different than I. Surprising, right? We all have friends who range into basically three categories: My Twin, Slightly Aggravating, and Why on Earth Do I Put Up With You????
Our twins hardly ever irritate or annoy us, frequently finish our thoughts, and never seem to be far away. We could not speak or see each other for ten years, then meet up and resume a conversation we had previously as if no time had spanned. These are usually our "dearest friends".
The slightly aggravating friends are the ones whom we clash with from time to time, but always find a way to overcome it. These are the people with whom we build our own character, ride the roller coaster of life with the most, and expose our deepest secrets to. We fight, we fuss, we argue, we throw things, but all in all we come back to each other with opened arms and streams of tears.
With the third category, usually these 'friends' are not exactly our friends at all--they are merely called this because of circumstance or their own design. These are the ones to whom we do not feel close to, often entertain ideas of eliminating the unhealthy limb, and avoid as much as possible. Usually, we find a way to end the relationship.
But what happens when we unintentionally treat our first or second category friends as if they are the third? This can happen in times of stress, illness (mental or physical), immaturity, and just plain stupidity. In time we realize that we have mistreated our friend, but words have been spoken, wounds have been caused, and the other friend is (understandably) bleeding. Like with any wound, we cannot reverse it to keep it from happening, nor can we simply offer a bandage to contain the hurt. This is a hurt that oozes and instantly infects. It changes everything. It wounds both the person the words were directed at, and the one who spoke them.
I have suffered from this stupidity recently and wounded a dear friend who was just being herself. I have known for years that she is the way she is and will not change--at times I am able to silently bear with it more than others. When I boiled over to inflect my cutting words, I was suffering from stress, lack of sleep, lack of medication (which truly does help for some of us), aggravation, and a build up of repressed emotions. Under normal circumstances, I could sigh it away, like I have for years, and appreciate the friendship. That day, I lashed out at her, spoke words that, while true, were very hurtful, and should have handled it more like an adult instead of a bitch.
Usually I would try to use a different word, but I think that one quite accurately describes my behavior, so it will stay.
I regret more than I can ever express my behavior that night. The words were honest, but needed to be said differently, at a different time, and perhaps not at all. We are both hurting from numerous avenues of our lives and did not need me attacking at a vulnerable moment.
She may not read this, or respond. She may be upset to the point where she can no longer be around me or suffer my presence. I cannot say that I would blame her. I just wished to apologize again, in a way that is more sincere than the last way we spoke, so that she has it whenever she is ready for it.
From the depths of my heart, I sincerely and humbly beg your forgiveness, my friend. I hope you are able to come to the day where you are ready to speak to me about this, and perhaps I may earn my friendship again.
Until then, I wait upon your convenience.