I haven't said sorry in a really long time.  I mean, for instances when I really mean it (so, not for events when you accidentally bump into someone, or when you spill coffee on the dining table, or things like that).  It crossed my mind yesterday that I have been apologising - for those rare times these days - it's been to the same persons.  People closest to me.  

Why are people so much more understanding and careful toward people they're not familiar to?  Why do we only flare up at our loved ones?  Is it because they're our close friends and family that we feel like they should know better than to be insensitive?  Or is it because they're who they are that we discuss with them our innermost thoughts, which we don't talk to about with anyone else, and those issues cause more radical emotions than dinner table talk? 

Sometimes it seems as if I get to arguments just for the sake of it.  When I'm in one, it's almost as if some plasm or substance leaves my body; I'm one removed from the argument, I'm watching and observing, but yet I'm still linked somehow.  The surrounding noises  seem to get muted.  They are talking about you can't make out the words.  You notice the odd sound however, like the click of a pen, the tick of the fan.  "I'm not here," I tell myself.  Blankly, you look at the person seated opposite you and wish you could take back all those hurtful words. 

It takes a lot of energy to get angry with someone.  

so why do you always do it, pamela?