#536: Bothered to Be Bothered

It bothered you
that you were so bothered,
obsessively so, for weeks,
until finally, you said
to yourself (because
no one else was
listening), how am I
served by this
anger? I mean,
it’s happened before:
you perceive that
someone has been
shitty to you and
you don’t understand
how anyone could
be that shitty. You
do not deserve it,
you say, you have
been maligned,
disrespected, misjudged,
left out, forgotten,
dismissed, ghosted,
gaslit, and it all
seems so unfair.
You lose sleep.
You rehearse all
the things you’d want
to say if given
a chance, things
that would give
you the feeling
that justice had
been served, that
your voice had
been heard, and
this goes on, as it
did, for weeks.
Until finally, you say,
it’s okay to be pissed
off and maybe that
anger is justified.
But at some point,
the sooner the better,
you’ve got to move
on from that shit,
to realize that all
the good stuff swirling
and bubbling around
you right now far
out shadows your own
indignation about
other people’s choices.
And what’s awful
out there in the world,
of all the possible
awful, far exceeds
a thousandfold your
rankled feelings.
You don’t have to
forgive or forget,
but you can move
forward as if none
of it mattered, because,
in the end, it doesn’t.
A door closes.
Another one opens.
You go through
that new door.