The colour for our new flat didn’t turn out the way I expected them. It was a minor disaster for me. It just didn’t feel right. My husband — to whom walls are just walls — tried his best to placate: “It’s ok lah.”
“Stop saying it’s ok when it’s obviously not ok for me.” I shot him an evil eye.
It’s doubly upsetting when you are upset and someone is saying in one way or another: It’s okay, move on, forget it. But it’s not okay, I’m not ready to move on and I can’t forget it… yet!
I had said the equivalent to a friend last week. It’s okay, move on, forget it. She was sharing her frustrations with me and I’d dismissed the issue without even bothering to understand why she is upset. I felt like the most offensive insensitive mule afterward. Thankfully she accepted my apology.
So maybe it was because I had committed the same offense or what I learned about phileo love struck my brain neurons at exactly the right moment.
I decided it wasn’t worthwhile explaining my husband’s crime to him (yes it was triply upsetting that he didn’t even realise his offense ack!) when I could be enjoying his company. It’s okay, move on, forget it.
And enjoy, I did!
(picture via personism.com)