Knock | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Knock | Previous Challenge Entry
By James Rouse
01/05/08
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My wife’s final words had fallen on deaf ears. I was so incensed at how she had treated me. Didn’t she think that how I felt was important?

The thoughts tumbled rapidly across my mind, interrupting the football game I was trying to watch to show her I wasn’t bothered by her stomping off to the bedroom and slamming the door. I turned up the volume.

It wasn’t my fault. Why should I feel bad about the fight? It was her comment that had started it. She had hurt my feelings and it was my right to be grieved.

The fight had rapidly spiraled out of control, descending into topics beyond the scope of my original complaint, topics that simply arose out of the fighting itself. The yelling, the sarcasm, the hurtful little comments—they quickly became the main issues rather than what she had said that started the whole thing.

What had she said? It seemed so far away now, of trivial importance compared to what her words had led to.

But now, she had turned the tables on me, treating me like I had overreacted. That was the problem now. I had no right to be upset, and I was way out of line for my response! That was her contention.

No matter how many times she did this, I still couldn’t believe it. Why can’t she just be responsible for hurting me and own up to it rather than shifting the responsibility for the fight to me? Why wasn’t she in here apologizing to me? How could she do this? Didn’t she see?

My head pounded. The combination of stress and indignation boiled within me and I couldn’t seem to calm myself down, despite my outward demeanor.

But I wanted to go talk to her.

I hate fights with her. There can’t be anything more disruptive to my life than things not being right with her.

But I couldn’t. This was her fault and it was her job to come make things right with me. Why had she stomped off!? I was the mad one! Where did she get the right!?

But we were both hurt and this had the potential to be more than it needed to be. It already was. I could end it if I went to her.

She had to learn though, that I’m not always going to be the one to come to her and try and make things right. This is an important principle and I can’t be cowed into coming crawling and begging forgiveness when SHE is the one who hurt me first! It’s not right!

What would I gain, though, besides a proven point and a salvaged pride? The costs and benefits tormented me, the unfairness of the situation.

But it wasn’t worth it.

I sighed and knocked on our bedroom door.

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