[Editor’s Note: It is my great honor to introduce to you the jester, royal humorist of the Matticus Kingdom and wordsmith extraordinaire. DJ is a fantabulous writer whose skills will blow you away. Well, they should. If they don’t your grasp on the English language is tenuous at best. Anyhow, please head on over to DJ’s little blot on the blogosphere so you can have well-written fiction and hilarity delivered straight to your inbox on a daily basis.]
My jaw clenches and I can feel my teeth crunch together, grinding them down further. The anger courses through my veins. My hands curl into fists and I force myself not to throw them into the wall. It is a struggle.
Do you even know what you are saying?
Do you realize how hypocritical you sound?
Do you understand how many people you are insulting?
Do you understand that you are insulting my beloved? My wife? The woman I’ve chosen to spend the rest of my life with?
Stop. You need to stop. Those words are for me. I need to stop. I need to calm down… but I can’t.
How can you say you represent something so pure, so noble, so forgiving, and still be so judgmental of those around you? How can you let these words tumble from your mouth without thinking about how they sound, how they will be perceived? How can you believe that your path is the only path we should be walking on?
I can feel my blood pulsing in my temples. My jaw is still clenched and my teeth grind back and forth. The sound reaches my ears but I can’t stop. I can’t relax. I can’t let it all slide off my back any longer.
You think you know best? You think you have all the answers? You think you are doing me a favor?
I think you are acting selfishly. I think you need to let go and move on. I think the world is quickly losing patience with people who hold to your, or similar, thought processes.
Stop. You need to stop. Again, those words are for me. I can control me. I can’t control you. I can’t keep the disrespect and discrimination from spilling from your lips. I can’t keep you from continuing the cycle of hypocrisy.
How do those words taste? Do you like the way they feel on your tongue? Do you like the shape of them as you spit them out?
Do they make you feel powerful, higher up the halo order, closer to your deity? Do they make you feel good? Do you enjoy saying things like that? What does that say about you?
Stop. I need to stop. Before I grind my teeth to splinters. Before I lose control and throw my fists at a wall. Before I say something that I will regret. I need to let you be you and just continue to laugh off your comments. I need to continue hoping that you don’t understand how hurtful your words can be. I have to believe you weren’t intentionally insulting my wife.
Calming down, I uncurl my fists. I can feel my heart rate return to normal. The pressure in my temples is relieved. But my jaw remains clenched, as is my way, and it will for some time to come, as is my way. I know me. I know who I am and how I want to carry forward in this life. I know I don’t want to feel that surge of anger coursing through me.
I’m starting to think I may not know you at all.