The Rage of The Torch

I don't fly into rages very often. I am like my Dad, in that we are generally peacekeepers, non-confrontational souls who live and let live. That is, until we are really crossed. And then it's "watch out, because the hurricane has arrived".

I had one such instance yesterday. I am not proud of my anger, rather, it embarrasses me that I can be provoked in such a way. On the surface, it was a silly thing that sparked the fire. But the intent behind it carried hurt and the kind of mocking scorn that can make me lose it completely. And, it did.

Bottom line...I can be an awesome friend to the people I care about. I would totally want me as a friend. But, I am kind of a high maintenance friend - not in that you need to do things for me, or give me presents or take me nice places, or listen to me whine for hours on end. BUT, I require a few things. Respect, kind words, appreciation, attention. Once in awhile, act concerned about how MY day is going. Ask how I'm feeling. Give me a hug. Tell me you like something I did. Make a comment on something I've written (or, even, just READ something I've written). Call me or email me just to say hello, or for something more than to ask me for favors or to pick my brain. It's really not that much to ask. But, if you're either unwilling or unable to do any of the above, let me know now, because I just don't have the time or energy to invest anymore. I get bruised easily, and life is too short to feel that way.