No, seriously, there are times when I am the biggest jerk. We’re talking, Queen-Goddess Jerk of all Jerkdonia.
This week has been one of those times.
Don’t write to tell me I must be mistaken. Alternately, don’t write to tell me that of course I’m a jerk and why did it take me so long to figure out? Because like most people I’m not always a jerk. Just at the worst possible times. Because when I do it I do it up so very wrong.
I’m not going to go into details because it involves the life of the person to whom I have been Capital J-Jerky, but trust me on this. However, I will say that there is a part of me that gets in my own way far too much and seems to be bent on self-sabotage. And that part seems to be growing exponentially as I get older. Especially when life is going fairly well and looks like it could get better. Which is why it decided to throw a Major Melodramatic Jerky-Fit in the path of someone who’s got enough crap to deal with right now.
Something’s gotta change. I’m not just hurting myself here. I’m hurting someone I care about. Someone who doesn’t deserve my histrionics, especially at this time, when having A Jerk around is just a Very Bad Thing.
I don’t know if words can convey how sorry I am. I don’t know how – or if – my apologies can repair what I’ve done. But I know one thing I gotta do.
I gotta stop Being A Jerk.