“I think what gets me,” I say, “isn’t that he lost his temper. That happens to everyone sometimes.”
“And some people more than others,” she adds.
I nod. “We all have emotional jags. Maybe do or say things we didn’t mean. Heck, even if we have all the self-control in the world, we can say or do something with the best of intentions, and it can be felt on the other end of it as something hurtful.”
“It’s true,” she says.
“I guess what gets me is that he lost his temper, chewed everyone out, didn’t apologize, pretended it never happened… and then was surprised when everyone soured on him.”
“Right? Act like a bully. Everyone hates it. And then boom! Shocked Pikachu face,” she summarizes.
“Mmhm,” I say. “How DARE you leave me after I treated you like trash? I’m the victim here.”
“Woe is meeee,” she says.
“I frankly can’t even get into that headspace,” I continue. “Look, I struggle with social anxiety and second guess myself so much. I walk around being as pleasant as I can to people in my everyday life — and I still can’t shake the fear that they’re going to suddenly decide they hate me.” I sigh.
“I know what you mean,” she says.
“I really struggle with that fear, that my friends will spontaneously decide I’m boring or they’re done with me,” I confess.
“Which is so funny to me because you’re fascinating. You’re so much fun to be around,” she says.
“Awww,” I say. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s hard for me to feel that way, especially on the bad days.”
“I get that, too,” she replies.
“Anyway… the rage and Shocked Pikachu just comes off as entitled on a certain level. I don’t understand how you can be actively aggressive to people and expect them to put up with it… to the point where you’re shocked when they, rightly, set some boundaries and nope out of the situation,” I say.