Stop, Or Go
Chapter I
‘Doubt’.
What a word.
It means something bad. It even sounds bad. Words that have two consonants that are already awkward on their own, like ‘d’ and ‘t’, are made even worse when put together in a big suck-it statement to all of those learning the English language. We’re taught growing up that doubt is bad, that when you begin to feel doubt you’ve done something bad. Like guilt, doubt is a feeling that can’t go away, and it only becomes worse the more you let it linger.
‘Guilt‘ is a word that sounds bad, too. When paired together, a person can automatically lose sense of time. Feeling doubtful and guilty, it makes seconds seem like minutes, and minutes seem like hours. Your stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out, and you’re paranoid that everyone is watching you.
It doesn’t matter what exactly you’ve done, or are accusing someone else of doing. It can be something simple and childish, like accidentally breaking something and not telling the owner. Or it can be something bigger, like murder. In my case, though, it’s not murder. In the grand scheme of things, my case was much smaller, much less of a big deal. But that’s never the way you view things when they’re actually happening to you. If you’ve ever had something happen to you, you’re not going to sit down and hold your problem to the light, only to see that what you thought was a big deal really couldn’t have mattered any less. That’s not how things work.
I probably could have handled the situation better. I probably could have heard him out, given his explanation more than one chance. Probably. But I didn’t. I had just received the worst news of my life, and then I was supposed to deal with him with a completely open and unbiased mind? Please. I view myself to be a pretty calm, levelheaded person, but no one could have been levelheaded in my situation.
And now I still don’t know what really happened.
And I still don’t know whom to believe.
What a word.
It means something bad. It even sounds bad. Words that have two consonants that are already awkward on their own, like ‘d’ and ‘t’, are made even worse when put together in a big suck-it statement to all of those learning the English language. We’re taught growing up that doubt is bad, that when you begin to feel doubt you’ve done something bad. Like guilt, doubt is a feeling that can’t go away, and it only becomes worse the more you let it linger.
‘Guilt‘ is a word that sounds bad, too. When paired together, a person can automatically lose sense of time. Feeling doubtful and guilty, it makes seconds seem like minutes, and minutes seem like hours. Your stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out, and you’re paranoid that everyone is watching you.
It doesn’t matter what exactly you’ve done, or are accusing someone else of doing. It can be something simple and childish, like accidentally breaking something and not telling the owner. Or it can be something bigger, like murder. In my case, though, it’s not murder. In the grand scheme of things, my case was much smaller, much less of a big deal. But that’s never the way you view things when they’re actually happening to you. If you’ve ever had something happen to you, you’re not going to sit down and hold your problem to the light, only to see that what you thought was a big deal really couldn’t have mattered any less. That’s not how things work.
I probably could have handled the situation better. I probably could have heard him out, given his explanation more than one chance. Probably. But I didn’t. I had just received the worst news of my life, and then I was supposed to deal with him with a completely open and unbiased mind? Please. I view myself to be a pretty calm, levelheaded person, but no one could have been levelheaded in my situation.
And now I still don’t know what really happened.
And I still don’t know whom to believe.