There are few things more painful than being treated badly by someone you know, knows better. That means only one of a couple of things, 1) they don't care about how they are treating you 2) they have no incentive to change how they are treating you. There is an old saying, when one knows better they do better. How about that? Here are my thoughts directed to the one who we know knows better but does not act better. To the one who either does not care or has no incentive to behave better.
Dear Do Better;
Every time you act with indifference toward me it stings. Be your infringement big or small it leaves an indelible mark on my spirit. This includes the times you walk into a room and don't acknowledge me. The times I am dressed to the nines and you look right past me. Those times you find me alone and sulking and you chastise me with your eyes. It stings. For those times I take a few extra minutes to smell just so, from the finger tips to the nape of the neck fragrant fresh for you.
But you ask where the kids are or what's for supper? You ask if your mail came or did you miss any calls? It stings and the sting quickly absorbs that fragrance that was meant just for you. For those times I styled my hair just so, I wore that dress you said you really liked, with those much too tight high heels that have a very small window before I have to take them off. All intended for you. Manufactured for those few moments you will look at me just so and tell me exactly what you are thinking. When you don't respond to all of this, it stings. It mostly stings because we both know, you know better. We know because a long time ago in what seems like forever you did better, always.
Did it ever occur to you that my needs have not changed? There is no quota on the number of times I want to be told I am pretty, that I smell good, that you like "this" dress. I like to hear your "hellos" when you enter the room. I would like to know that I come before any call, any mail delivery, and even before the children I gave to you. Regrettably, I am left stuck and believing you know better. You know exactly what I want but for your own reasons you keep it to yourself.
There is no quota on the number of times I have made your supper, brought you a plate, turned back the covers on your side of the bed, ran you a hot bath. No quota on the times I have taken a message for you, stacked and sorted your mail neatly. No quota on the times I have stood in for you at the parent teacher conference, Johnny's softball game, the parent/child Gingerbread competition. I did all these things and more because I am better than all those times you knew better but didn't.
So in closing, I leave your with this. I want better. I need better, so we can be better together.
Signed, Stung and in need of better, again.
Dear Do Better;
Every time you act with indifference toward me it stings. Be your infringement big or small it leaves an indelible mark on my spirit. This includes the times you walk into a room and don't acknowledge me. The times I am dressed to the nines and you look right past me. Those times you find me alone and sulking and you chastise me with your eyes. It stings. For those times I take a few extra minutes to smell just so, from the finger tips to the nape of the neck fragrant fresh for you.
But you ask where the kids are or what's for supper? You ask if your mail came or did you miss any calls? It stings and the sting quickly absorbs that fragrance that was meant just for you. For those times I styled my hair just so, I wore that dress you said you really liked, with those much too tight high heels that have a very small window before I have to take them off. All intended for you. Manufactured for those few moments you will look at me just so and tell me exactly what you are thinking. When you don't respond to all of this, it stings. It mostly stings because we both know, you know better. We know because a long time ago in what seems like forever you did better, always.
Did it ever occur to you that my needs have not changed? There is no quota on the number of times I want to be told I am pretty, that I smell good, that you like "this" dress. I like to hear your "hellos" when you enter the room. I would like to know that I come before any call, any mail delivery, and even before the children I gave to you. Regrettably, I am left stuck and believing you know better. You know exactly what I want but for your own reasons you keep it to yourself.
There is no quota on the number of times I have made your supper, brought you a plate, turned back the covers on your side of the bed, ran you a hot bath. No quota on the times I have taken a message for you, stacked and sorted your mail neatly. No quota on the times I have stood in for you at the parent teacher conference, Johnny's softball game, the parent/child Gingerbread competition. I did all these things and more because I am better than all those times you knew better but didn't.
So in closing, I leave your with this. I want better. I need better, so we can be better together.
Signed, Stung and in need of better, again.
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