Aug. 12th, 2010

Grudges take far too much effort to sustain.

Two little girls in a park near Union Station, Washington, D.C. (LOC)

I've never been able to keep them.

One night in the second grade, I was driven to write in my diary. The injustice was simply too great. We'd been best friends since the day after we fought in kindergarten, but there were some things I simply wouldn't put up with.

Yes, I did like spaghetti.

It was her dad who asked, we had spaghetti, and she, beyond all reason, got angry with me! This was beyond all bounds. I loved spaghetti, and I was the guest--surely I deserved it. She had no right to be angry.

The rest of the night went no better. And when I wrote that diary entry, I knew it would simply have to be the end of that friendship. I was simply practicing the language for the passive-aggressive letter that would be the only true way to express my deep disdain for the situation.

We're friends still, nonetheless.

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