**the hand you hold is the hand that holds you down**

I'm ashamed of myself.
For shouting at my parents and being impatient with them.
For being a bitch with people who I know I can dump my baggage on.
For hurting these people over and over again, because I knew they would take it lying down.
For caring about people who couldn't care less about me.
For obsessing about people and clutching onto them.
For just not letting go.
For trying to be cool and pretending I'm 'with it'.
For concocting points of view and ideologies that I've never believed in.
For nursing biases, grudges, and prejudices, for letting them grow and fester.
For discouraging a friend to get married - I'd liked him at some point of time, and I can't bear the fact that someone else will have him.
For cheating on two men who I guess had really bothered to love me.
For ignoring people who've bothered to find out how I was doing.
For smirking and refusing outright when all they wanted was to give me company.
For making the same mistakes over and over again.
For faking that I've actually learnt something from my blunders.
For just wanting to be adored and admired. And approved of.
For claiming I need true friends around me, when I could've done just fine with a bunch of yes-men.
For throwing away valuable friendships.
For not knowing jewels from cheap tinsel.
For giving away the gifts I had.
For showing off in front of people who I knew would never be able to match up.
For each time I've cursed my life, blamed God, and held my parents responsible.
For every little mean insensitive thing I've ever done.

I'm not saying things will change.
But I'm really, really sorry.


~RS
December, 2004
Used with permission