Humans tend to
hold grudges. We also, on the other hand of it, beg for forgiveness. We forget
we were once in that position when we’d literally do anything to undo our
mistake. The truth is, the problem with humans is that we aren’t
straightforward enough, or sometimes, we’re too straightforward. When it boils
down to it, almost everyone is either afraid, selfish, or my personal favorite,
insecure. We stay mad at a person until their time is well due because we want
them to come begging back to us, reminding you of all the great qualities we
have, which falls under their category of why they can’t live without you. Or
maybe, we think of all the trouble that goes into trusting someone and are too
cowardly to open us up to the idea of happiness. We search and spend our whole
lives investing in the meaning of true happiness. When it comes close, we
dismiss it, begging for the forgiveness from the creator of our unhappiness. If
you’re not straightforward enough, it will leave you feeling empty,
dissatisfied, or even fake. Now if you’re too blunt, you can come off as rude,
or selfish; no one likes to feel misunderstood. So, what’s the answer? Do you
speak your mind when you know it will do more harm? Or do you keep quiet,
giving satisfaction to the ones who think they are superior to you?
I caught myself thinking about dogs. For
example, the lonely Labrador ignores the violent Pit-bull, secretly an inner
fighter. It doesn’t care if it’s being taunted. Why? Well, he’s tired. He could
proof himself if he wanted to, but there’s really no point. They won’t ever
meet again. And if they do? The Labrador could prove himself then. Time will
tell all. Or, picture two dogs in a battle. One bites his competitor’s ear,
while the other dives for the right front paw. After the combat they lay next
to each other, simply too tired to continue. They both realize their state,
mutually aware of their weariness as a sign to move on.
Tonight, on my
drive home from work, I passed a dog trotting on the side of the road. I didn’t
hesitate because I was tired, and cranky and whine, whine, whine. After I
passed him, I immediately started thinking how the dog would affect me. And so, being selfish, I realized I didn’t
want to have the label of a dog killer. By now, the dog was almost to the highway.
Almost to my subdivision entrance, I turned my car around on a mission. By the
time I arrived to the end of the street that meets the highway, the dog was
already making his way toward the moon on the busy intersection. I found myself
with my window down, crying and begging for the “puppy” to return back to me.
The dog could have stopped and forgiven my previous selfish behavior, but then
that would be giving glory to my new area of selfishness. He didn’t care, but
more importantly, he was free. If it were me, even though I had somewhere to
go, I would of averted my attention to the pitiful cries of someone who was to
blame for my current inconvenience. I guess that’s the difference between me
and him, for as he approached his death, he never turned around. Happy was how
he died.
