Okay, let's try this again. I'm not entirely sure if this revision patches all the holes in the first draft, but here 'tis.
Honest:
I believe that correcting a mistake is more important than apologizing for it repeatedly.
Honesty with style (illustrating with anecdotes):
Sometimes we do not recognize the formative moments in our lives when they occur. One of mine came when I was a high school senior and at the time, I certainly didn't think that it would be so important to me later.
My father was driving my best friend and I home from school that day in the brown station wagon we used to own. We were all sitting up front, since that seat was so large it could accommodate all three of us. I was staring at the floor and my best friend was crying.
To this day I can't remember what upset her so much – she may have had an argument with someone at school, but I'm not sure of it – but it was enough to bring her to violent sobs. Instead of comforting her, which is what a best friend is supposed to do when you are sad, I was sitting beside her uselessly and staring at the floor. When I had tried, tentatively, to give her a hug, she had jerked away from my hands and said, "Don't touch me!"
So I didn't. What I did instead was think bitterly, I don't know why I bother - it's the same thing all over again. You cry, I try to reach out to you, you tell me to get lost. If you won't even let me help you when you need it, then are we really best friends at all?
She did apologize to me later for that incident, but true to form, her behavior didn't change. She would become angry, or upset, or frightened over something, then refuse to let me do anything about it. More apologies would follow...and the cycle would begin anew.
By the time I left for college a few months later, I had found the answer to my question. It was "no."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2003-06-29 08:37 pm (UTC)Honest:
I believe that correcting a mistake is more important than apologizing for it repeatedly.
Honesty with style (illustrating with anecdotes):
Sometimes we do not recognize the formative moments in our lives when they occur. One of mine came when I was a high school senior and at the time, I certainly didn't think that it would be so important to me later.
My father was driving my best friend and I home from school that day in the brown station wagon we used to own. We were all sitting up front, since that seat was so large it could accommodate all three of us. I was staring at the floor and my best friend was crying.
To this day I can't remember what upset her so much – she may have had an argument with someone at school, but I'm not sure of it – but it was enough to bring her to violent sobs. Instead of comforting her, which is what a best friend is supposed to do when you are sad, I was sitting beside her uselessly and staring at the floor. When I had tried, tentatively, to give her a hug, she had jerked away from my hands and said, "Don't touch me!"
So I didn't. What I did instead was think bitterly, I don't know why I bother - it's the same thing all over again. You cry, I try to reach out to you, you tell me to get lost. If you won't even let me help you when you need it, then are we really best friends at all?
She did apologize to me later for that incident, but true to form, her behavior didn't change. She would become angry, or upset, or frightened over something, then refuse to let me do anything about it. More apologies would follow...and the cycle would begin anew.
By the time I left for college a few months later, I had found the answer to my question. It was "no."
Don't be sorry, just fix it.