The Silent TreatmentPrint this LibAdd this lib to your website » |
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'I really shouldn't be doing this over the phone,' first_name said, and then proceeded to anyway.
' @first_name thinks that our relative is derogatory_noun ,' I told my relative . @first_name said we need to see a specialist .'
So we loaded up the form_of_transportation and set out to investigate the nature of @first_name 's claims. We talked to a professional , a professional , and came up with our judgment: @first_name was wrong. Maybe trying to do the right thing, maybe with the best of intentions, but wrong.
I explained my conclusion in a form_of_communication . I was thorough, thoughtful and left it at that. I also entreated first_name to come and find me and we could discuss @first_name 's concerns face to face.
@first_name never did. But another form_of_communication came, this time with more pointed and direct jabs about my noun . And now a comparison between their noun and my noun .
I sent a noun , and explained myself patiently again, with another entreaty to come and discuss it personally.
Finally, the last straw: @first_name sent me a link to a website that described mental_disorder , which summed up @first_name 's personal opinions. I was synonym:_angry .
I stewed and simmered. Still not one word in person; we had been friends for number measure_of_time , and this seemed to be stepping over a line. I finally wrote one last @form_of_communication , full of all the reasons that @first_name was wrong and concluding that the @piece_of_recreational_equipment was squarely in their @location_for_recreation ; @first_name knew where to find me.
By this time, the issue was not about an opinion around which we clearly disagreed, it was about @first_name not having the courage to face me, and instead sending me molotov cocktails from relative safety of @first_name 's building .
@first_name never sought me out.
Life moved forward. I faced new, even more distressing problems. I moved on.
And I got an invitation to a event . Just like that. No hint that we needed to discuss anything, no mention of the adjective animal in the room. Just an invitation.
I called and said that we would be in location but didn't @first_name think that we ought to discuss what had happened between us? Like pulling a animal out of a receptacle , @first_name reluctantly agreed.
We met in a public_area . There was polite chit chat. It looked like I was, in the end, still going to have to bring up the cause of all the turmoil. And I did.
'In the end it wasn't your initial form_of_communication that got me, it was your judgment of my verb_ending_in_ing skills and insistence without every talking to me directly that became the greater problem.'
'I was scared of you,' @first_name said.
'Because I was mad?' I asked. 'So what? People get mad and then move on, but you never even gave me the chance.'
There were tears. It was ugly. I was still feeling bitterly betrayed, and @first_name was still obviously terrified of the tiny ball of fury that was seething across the piece_of_furniture .
I went to location . @first_name went to location .
We run into each other at public_area , and make polite conversation. It's perfectly adult and polite. But there's the seed of my mistrust and I still feel the sting of the conflict. I have no idea how @first_name feels about it now.
And I probably never will.
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