I can be very rude. Sometimes I just want to be in my own space. Earphones in, music playing and I’m typing away, reading or watching YouTube videos. To anyone who talks to me, I’m sorry, but I’m going to pretend you’re not there. I’ll show you, with no reservations, that I’m busy by not paying attention to you. Can’t you see that I’m not listening? That I’m currently not in the mood? Come back later. My grandmother and aunt insist on talking to me even when I don’t answer, and it really annoys me.
I always feel bad afterwards, though I mostly do nothing about it. Then one day, I really thought about the fact that I frequently choose to do my own things rather than listen to what people have to say (especially when they’re people I love and people who won’t be there forever), and I apologized to my grandmother for ignoring her. I’m sorry, please forgive me. Being rude meant more to me than it did to her, but the apology made me feel better. This brings me to the thought that apologies are often for the person who did wrong. To the person you’ve wronged, the apology doesn’t change what’s already been done. It’s a word, the aftermath, a confession, an outlet for guilt. It’s for you to know that I’m hurt by what I did, and that I’m not all bad. Please take me back.
Also, for some reason, it’s so much easier to say ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ to my grandmother. I have trouble saying both to the rest of my family, no matter how profoundly they are felt inside.