WHY DO I BOTHER?
I went for a walk. Not because we’d fought. Because I needed space.
We were watching TV when the conversation somehow turned towards my parents, and he started bad-mouthing them. I quietly left for a walk.
Walking always cleared my head.
I was the sensible one, the educated one. I reminded myself. The one who let things go. The one who understands. But I didn’t have to accept everything.
I returned quietly to discover he had not even noticed my absence.
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“Don’t ever talk again about my parents in this way. If you can’t love and respect them…” I tried to draw boundaries.
“But I love and respect them,” he defended. “I only said what was true. Do you disagree?”
I wish I could say, “Yes, I disagree,” but why make things worse?
I stared at him hard. He did not understand. Probably, he would never understand.
Why do I bother?
