You’re An Asshole


I don’t ever go in expecting the worst in people. I think it robs them of dimensions, layers, or whatever Shrek was talking about with the damn onion metaphor. We’ve all got our issues – our fatal flaws, our mistakes that we regret in the morning.

But I think very few people are bad. I have an issue with the idea of good vs. bad because it’s so subjective, but I’d say most of us have kernels of goodness planted all over.

And I’m sure you’re good too, somewhere.

Down deep.

From where I’m standing though, all I see is an asshole.

All I see is someone who purposefully chooses to hurt people instead of helping. All I see is a guy who takes someone at their most vulnerable and tries to break them even harder.

We’re all assholes sometimes. I’ve ignored desperate texts from men, and then swapped shoes and been the desperate one. I’ve lied about things I had no place lying about. We all have our monstrous moments – some are grand and frightening. Some are as tiny as being rude to the waiter. No one should be excused from shitty actions, but it’s okay to understand we all have them.

But when behavior becomes a clear-cut pattern, it’s hard to deny the truth.

You’re mean.

And yeah, I feel like Taylor Swift singing to Kanye, or reverting back to that 5 year old on the playground crying because Elaine pushed me down into the tanbark. I feel stupid for even thinking how mean you are, like I should be above it. I should be stronger and okay and not crying because you hurt my goddamn feelings.

But you did. You hurt my feelings. And that’s valid and I’m allowed to say it.

I’m allowed to let you know I think you were wrong. You were cruel. You were the kind of person I never want to be.

I’m not going to say, “Thanks for showing me the real you!” because that’s bullshit. I wish you had been a nicer person. I wish you had led with your heart instead of that empty space where it should be.

I wish you had an ounce of compassion. But I guess that’s a lot to ask from an asshole.