Being a Jerk – Is This a Love Story?

I think we’re all guilty of it at some point.

Being a jerk to someone we claim to love. Someone we care about.

And I don’t just mean being jerk-like; I mean acting downright hateful. Condescending. Rude. Hurtful. Possibly a full blown a**hole.

Why do we do this?

Is it because when you truly love someone there’s a level of comfort that you feel gives you the right to say anything? Do anything? Be anything?

I’ve been on the receiving end of these things. Hurtful, awful things said in tones that make you question your self worth. Question even your existence. Question everything.

Even worse, I’m guilty of being the giver. I’m guilty of giving the verbal diarrhea to someone I love. And I’m guilty of justifying it because I was angry or hurt or afraid.

Why do we do this?

Why do we continue to hurt the ones we claim to love with our words?

Anyone who says words can’t hurt you are liars. They’re lying liars lying out of their lying liar holes because words do hurt. They stay with you long after the other person thinks they have fallen away.


They bounce around in our thoughts and minds and we focus on the negativity until we start to drown in a quagmire of self doubt and self loathing. They feed those parts of us that struggle with our own worth. They start to convince us that they’re true.

And for awhile, no matter how short or how long, we believe them.

But there’s another part to all of this. The part that sometimes, well sometimes it’s much worse.

And that’s what isn’t said.

It’s the elephant in the room following an argument. The invisible fog of tension. The gap of silence because they wanted to say it, they wanted to say that awful, terrible, hurtful thing and they didn’t.

But they thought it.

And that’s what you feel.

Why do we do this?

There is no justification. What we are is quite simply, human. And as we are human beings, we’re perfectly imperfect and prone to saying hurtful ugly things. We’re prone to letting the things that bother us build until we explode in frustration.

And sometimes, we’re not sorry.

I mean, we are, we just don’t want to say it. Or can’t.

How unfortunate that sometimes the things that need to be said the most are only ever said in anger.

I would like to think after writing these things down,verbalizing these intimate thoughts, that never again will I be the giver.

But I cannot say that with perfect clarity.

And I’m sorry.