It's almost past midnight, but I can hear your screams of frustration and restless sighs of disbelief from up here. You're mad and you're not afraid to show it. I can't help but shudder, although all I really want to do is just roll my eyes in annoyance. Your favorite game is on and you are having a one-on-one screaming match with the TV.
I guess I should be grateful that it's only the TV you are fighting with tonight--don't worry, you will win. It's a lifeless object that simply flashes images in from of your eyes. You can yell and scream at it all you wish, but in the end, it will not talk back to you. In the end, you will dominate it. By man-handling its lifeless extension called the remote control and by pushing the POWER/OFF button.
This is exactly how everyone in this house would like to treat you sometimes. Like a lifeless TV set.
I have always been a firm believer in the fact that, one can indeed be a "good" person deep down inside. And that deep down inside, everyone really is a "good" person. Yet just how "deep" is deep down inside? How far must one travel into the inner-workings of your mind and soul to justify that statement for you? While I have no problem taking a deeper look, over the years, as I've become quite tired of constantly taking the time to look so hard and so far and so DEEPLY inside, I've come up with the following notion: while one might be an overall good person, it is his or her everyday actions that make him or her WHO HE or SHE REALLY is.
So needless to say, these actions are what constitute your goodness in my eyes. And branching off this notion, more often than not, one might consider you a not-so-good person after all.
There are virtually too many things and instances I can come up with to use as examples as to why you are a good person, deep down inside. There are virtually too many things and instances I can come up with to use as examples as to why you hurt me. You might not know this, but you hurt me (and others around you) every day.
You hurt me when I say hello to you and you don't answer. You hurt me when you say hello to me first and wonder why I don't say hello to you. You hurt me when you criticize my mother's cooking and you hurt me when you refuse to eat dinner on the rare occasion when we do get together. You hurt me when you are too proud to ask for help and you hurt me when you don't appreciate the help I give anyway. You hurt me when you are so impatient that your blood boils in your veins. You hurt me when you make me feel guilty. You hurt me when you yell at my mother. You hurt me when you spew such painful words to my 87-year old grandmother. You hurt me with your anger. You hurt me with your frustration. You hurt me with your negativity. You hurt me with you uncertainty. You hurt me with your fears. You hurt me with your pessimism.
You hurt me, but I love you. And I forgive you. It is all that I can do.