I can't hold grudges. I just can't. Sometimes I wish I could...
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He sighed.
Why was it so unfair?
He watched his sister stalk away, then heard her slam the door to her bedroom.
It was officially the 5th day she hadn't spoken to him because he had accidentally thrown her favorite silk blouse into the washing machine, inadvertently stretching it out. Granted, it had been a stupid mistake to make. His sister adored and cherished that blouse with all her might. And so he had gifted her with a lengthy, genuinely sincere apology.
Unfortunately, despite his valiant efforts, all he had received was sneers, silence, and a glare that raised every single hair on his neck.
Sometimes he wished he could do that.
It was a foreign concept to him; to be angry at someone and be able to continue those feelings of anger for an extended amount of time by choice. He simply wasn't capable of it. Oh, he had tried. But it was all futile. A good meal or a good night's worth of sleep would erase it all, and the next day he and whoever had offended him would be best friends again.
It was the way he had always lived.
When his sister sourly and perpetually gave him the cold shoulder, he couldn't understand.
He was also envious.
What about the time his sister cut up a pair of his favorite socks for "a great DIY tiktok"? What about the times his sister was pissed off and yelled at him for no reason? What about the time he was worried for his sister because she wouldn't come to dinner, and she threw one of his favorite glass animals on the floor and broke it because she didn't want to talk to him? That had been a fantastic reward for his concern.
All of those memories brought unpleasant feelings into his heart. He knew that his sister had wronged him. But he had also wronged his sister. Was that not equivalent exchange?
He carried that ball of hurt with him everyday, and still does.
Ruefully, he supposed that it was in his nature.
Perhaps he was made forgiving.