Bad Memory #2
One time in chorus class we were rehearsing a song. The director wanted us to hear a balanced sound to replicate, so he chose the best singers to come forward and sing the piece. I was part of this example group, but my then boyfriend was not. As we sang the piece for the choir I watched him leave the stage with his head down and fists clenched. After we finished I excused myself to the bathroom and followed him to his hiding place (which was conveniently the bathroom). I found him curled up crying in a bathroom stall and instead of even allowing me to help him, he lashed out. Instead of even being proud of my talent for a second, he lashed out. This was one of the first of many guilt trips he led me on. As I peered around the door watching him hide and claw at his face, I forced myself to apologize for my achievement. I was torn between conflicting emotions: anger and sorrow. Angry because I was guilted into sympathy and Sorrowful because I thought I had taken any sense of pride from him, like I had stomped on his talent with a wicked grin on my face. I realize now that he was the one stomping and I was the one allowing it to happen.