Arguments

Hello.

Arguments.

We’ve all been in a lot of them. They hurt us all. We all say things that we wish we hadn’t and we look back with regret.

I don’t really want to call one argument to mind. I hate them. I will, instead, talk of my arguments as a whole.

I would say that I fight the most with my father. For some reason, our personalities clash, though sometimes we are very like each other. It is hard to say what sets us off most of the time. It’s almost always petty. We’ll yell for a few minuets, I’ll retreat to my room, stamping my feet and dashing away angry tears. He’ll then come up the stairs softly and knock on my door lightly. I tell him to go away and he opens the door anyway. He asks if I’m still angry and if I hate him, at which point I give up and tell him that, yes, I am still angry, but no, I don’t hate him.

Arguments with my brother are common, but always petty. He’ll be doing something to annoy me, I do something in return, he retaliates, and I stand up from our worn kitchen table and walk into another room, telling him that sometimes, I cant stand him.

Arguments with my friends are even more rare. I can’t remember the last time I fought with most of them. I do, sometimes, get annoyed, as I seem to do with most people if I spend too much time with them, and say something sharp that I don’t mean. It has never gone beyond that.

And the most rare of all are arguments with my mother. I hate these more than all the rest combined. I suppose that’s because I love her the most. I have a tendency to cry a lot in arguments with her. I’m always so worried. What I would do if she stayed angry at me?

Arguments are painful.