Anger, on its own, can be both an empowering feeling of expression and something so full of envy and aggression that it brings you lower than anything else has ever been before. I’ve always been one of those people, who seem to be calm on the surface and is calm on the inside. However, even when I’m at my calmest, some days, the smallest of things can set off a temper that comes up like a broken engine; it sputters and trips over itself, with random taunts and jibes and mean remarks. I don’t know where do they even come from, but these remarks leave scars deeper than most, and make my regret level shoot to the highest.

I’ve often wondered why am I the way I am? Certainly, this aggressiveness is not something I wish to have. Why do I then engage in it, time and time again, despite trying to improve? I go ahead and cultivate it, and there are times I do not even regret it. There is no virtue in being unkind, and yet, sometimes, it is something I do from time to time. Many friendships and relationships that I have had in the past have ruined due to it, but somehow my anger and bitterness towards the universe simply stays the same.
I had two college friends in particular, with whom I really couldn’t stop fighting despite my strongest reservations against the same. I’d end up fighting with them every other week, and patching up within two days. The arrangement was definitely not leading to the development of a strong friendship. It is true that people grow weary of someone, after a point in time, especially if that someone is causing them troubles. I’d grown weary of them and they both were tired of me.

After a month and a half had passed, the brutal pang of regret hit me. I did believe I wasn’t wholly at fault, but I definitely was at fault to a substantial degree and that guilt had the absolute worst effect on me. It ate away my conscience, day and night, and there were nights I cried because I didn’t like who I had become. Maybe, that is a very human thing to happen to someone, but it becomes all the more hard to talk about, to people, apologize and “face the music” so to speak, when you don’t like the face looking back at you in the mirror.
I was afraid to admit my mistakes and own up, and once I realized this, I wasn’t, afraid anymore. It made me understand the significance of saying sorry, of saying, “Yes, I did wrong, and here I am, apologizing for everything I put you through.” In our times, where ego clashes often occur, saying sorry, according to me, is a thing of beauty. After the initial inertia, I wasn’t afraid anymore to apologize and amend. That transformation from a bitter person to one more accepting and open has been one of the most important ones for me.

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