I’m a grudge holder. Consider yourself warned. If someone says or does something mean to me or anyone I love, it will take me a long time to get over. Sure, I’ll be civil to them, but while I’m being nice my brain will be like, “Remember what they did to you?” It’s likely that I’ll never forget. I have an amazing long-term memory. So don’t mess!
The thing is, I know I should be forgiving and realize that people say and do stupid things all the time that they wish they could take back. Sure. I get that. I did something dumb once to a friend and she was mad at me for a while. But then she ended up forgiving me. I wonder what it feels like to be that nice?
Here’s a story about one of the longest grudges I’ve ever held. Sit down and get cozy, this is a good one.
In first grade a girl named Quinn Fabray was in my class. Her name wasn’t really Quinn Fabray. That’s a character on Glee A.K.A the worst show ever made. However, this person has the exact same name as a character on Glee and I’m convinced they named the character after her because she’s so annoying. Anyway, Quinn was in my class and was nice enough to me I suppose. She lived in my neighborhood so I guess that meant that we were forced to hang out.
One time, Quinn came over to my house and was looking around my room and making fun of my stuff. She looked at my piggy bank and spilled all of the pennies on the ground. I’m assuming I only had pennies. I looked at all of my hard earned three dollars and told her to pick them up or I’ll tell my mom. She said no and that if I don’t pick them up she’ll tell her parents that she had a bad time at my house and that I was mean to her. Looking back, I should’ve just said, “Get on the ground and pick up my pennies before I smack you in the face.”
Unfortunately, I was the one who got down on the ground and picked up all the pennies by myself while she laughed at me. Fast forward 18 years later. Quinn asks me to be friends on Facebook. I accept because I’m obviously curious about what she looks like, what she does, etc. After I accept her friend request, she and her mom send me messages about how great it would be to get together mainly because I have a connection that they would love to get in touch with. In their message, they talk about all the great memories they have of my family whom they met maybe twice. They also mention my childhood dog Tasha, that even I forget about from time to time so they must have dug pretty deep to remember that detail.
I have no words to describe how great it felt to deny them of ever seeing me or any of my family members. I wished them all the best of course, but I told them that I knew what they were trying to do. They seemed to remember every detail about my family and I but they had no recollection of the trauma that was caused with my piggy bank. Not that I mentioned the piggy bank episode. I would’ve come off as slightly insane.
That’s what blogging is for!