I’m really not this inherently… mean person that I fear I present myself as being. I get indescribably crabby at people who don’t deserve it and then I end up feeling like pond scum. I really enjoy doing things for other people; I love going out of my way to make them happy. Little gifts, picking up the tab for dinner, whatever.
Maybe it bothers me the most that I always fall short somehow. Whatever my little gesture is, it seems like they’re all about 95% okay, and at the end of it people settle for them as “positive experiences.” They are all less than mind-blowing.
There’s always a better, more efficient way of doing things than the way I end up doing them. I’m a klutz and a clod and a bunch of those other hard-k-sound-started words. I’m the least graceful person I know, and maybe I am far more selfish than I’d imagined. I often feel as though I’m not actually “loved” by those around me; that I’m tolerated more than anything. As though they all think, yeah, that Kim… she’s got problems, and she’s annoying and clingy, but it could always be worse…
I had an apology flower that I picked out of someone’s yard rejected on the walk home tonight. Why did that hurt so much? I stole a flower out of somebody’s yard to apologize for being crabby, and the receiver declined, named another in the house who deserved it more, that he didn’t need me to apologize for being crabby. I spend so much of my life apologizing for this mistake or that transgression. But I’d never had one rejected before. Rejected, and then informed of how I could do it better. I’m just not good enough at anything, am I?
And I start every sentence with “I.”
