Pity

Pity is not usually something I feel towards people. I almost look at that as a bit of an insult, because I think that's how I would feel if I knew someone was pitying me.

Remember the 10 gallon bucket? I just left it in the garage, near the recycling. I wanted to make sure he saw it, to make sure he knew that I knew. Why did I want that? Well, I guess at the time I wanted to make him mad, to make him feel guilty, to make him understand the consequences of his decisions.

Our recycling had been building up, and last night I wanted to load up the car and take it all over to the school's recycling bins. He helped me, and as we were almost done loading he noticed the bucket.

"Was that all in here [the garage]?"
"Not all of it."
"Where else was it?"
"Just....around...the house."

Silence.

There was not another word spoken as we drove to the school, unloaded, or drove back. But as we were driving over there, I heard a sniffle. Was he crying? It looked as though he was fighting back tears. That was not the response I expected. And that was when I caught myself feeling pity towards him, and I felt bad because of it.

M-W dictionary defines pity as "a sympathetic sorrow for one suffering, distressed, or unhappy."

Seeing that overwhelming evidence of his drinking and deception had obviously made him unhappy. He was distressed, and yes, he was probably suffering. Was that what I had wanted? Well, no....I don't think so....

So what did I want? Why did I do that? It was supposed to be a counterargument: You want to know why I get so upset about one little lie? Because it's never one! It's a fucking 10 gallon bucket's worth! ....I don't think it can across that way.

And now the swing I'm on is swaying back in the other direction....It's okay, it's not your fault....you're sick.....we'll get through this....you can't control what you're doing......

My God, when does this vicious cycle of anger, hatred, and pitiful sympathy ever end?