I think love includes respect. I think.

[I think the older I get, the more frazzled I get when I try to say out loud frustrations I have with people or opinions on things. The good news for me is that the older I get, the more I rely on writing things down in story format to say all the things I wish I could look you in the eyes and say.]

            “I know you think I’m innocent and therefore stupid,” she said spinning around to face me, a fire in her eyes I had never seen before, “But let me tell you something about me. I wasn’t just born with innocence, I worked hard to become this way and I cling to it every day.”

            “What’s the point?” I mumbled, turning my back on her and taking another shot. I had lost count of how many that made my nightly count.

            In the shock of her grabbing my shoulders and almost violently turning me back around, I dropped the shot glass.

            “Do not turn your back on me, Samuel Baylor,” she said, her voice scarily low and quiet. I gaped at her – I had never seen her like this, and I’m not sure I ever wanted to again.

            Before speaking again, she grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and took a swig straight out of the bottle. “You think my persona of positivity is a sham, I know. You think I don’t know the world because I want everyone to get along and show respect to each other. Let me tell you, Samuel Baylor, I know a thing or two about the world. I know what it’s like to have unwanted hands holding you tightly and telling you they know what you want so you might as well let them give it to you. I know all to well the feeling in the pit of your stomach like your insides are rotting when you get a phone call saying a friend you love dearly died, or someone in your family has a terrible disease. I know what it’s like to be told you’ve been cheated on or you aren’t good enough for a friendship or you’re not worth enough for someone to care. I know what loneliness feels like, I know what desire is and I know what frustration is. Just because I seem innocent doesn’t mean I actually am. Don’t you ever forget that I have stories I’ve never told you, Baylor. There are things about me that you don’t deserve to know, so you don’t know them.”

            I stood dumfounded, staring at her like an idiot. The almost annoying cheerful disposition she always carried with her was gone, and I was afraid of this girl I was seeing standing next to me now.

            “Megs,” I began, but she cut me off right away.

            “You depend too heavily on my blithesome attitude. You’ve come to expect me to be always sunny and twinkly. But you remember this, I’m human. I choose to be this way.”

            “Why?”

            It was a dumb question. I half expected her to laugh at me and walk out on me after I uttered the word, but instead, she just sighed.

            “Because maybe if I smile at people, maybe if I offer words of encouragement instead of snarling a hurtful remark, maybe if I am patient and gentle instead of snarky and cocky, maybe just maybe if I show the world respect, it will show it right back to me.”

            I felt a laugh bubbling up in my throat, but I tried to push it back down. We were in this conversation now, whether I wanted to be or not, and we might as well finish it. “The world’s never going to be nice to you, Megs. We live in a fallen world, remember? I know you believe that, I’ve heard you say it.”

            She tipped her head to one side and squinted her eyes at me, like she couldn’t understand what I was saying. “Just because we live in a fallen world doesn’t mean we can’t make it better, Baylor.”

            She let her words sink in and take effect before continuing.

            “There’s a difference between hating the actions of people and hating people. I hate a lot of actions. I hate rape and mental abuse and physical violence and harsh words and bad drivers who think the road is theirs alone.”

            I couldn’t help my laugh at the last one, but she smiled, so I knew it was all right.

            “But I don’t hate the man or woman who was so desperate to be in control of someone they allowed anger or power or lust to take over and assault their victim. I don’t even hate the driver who felt the need to show me one of his fingers after he turned in front of me and I exercised my horn. I wonder what got them to that point.”

            “I don’t understand,” I said. It may have been my drunken state of mind, but I wanted to connect with her words.
            “What good is it going to do anyone, including me, to sit here and throw their name in the dirt or bash their reputation? Nothing. None whatsoever. But what good is it going to do if I try to understand them and their motives and show them kindness, maybe something they’ve never been shown before? It could just make all the difference, at least in their lives, in the world. I’m not naïve, contrary to popular belief. I don’t dance around in fairyland, thinking that everything’s golden and rainbows and perfect. Far from it. But nothing, and I mean nothing, good ever comes from a rotten attitude or hatred. And maybe nothing good will come from smiling at strangers and showing respect to authority figures even when I strongly disagree with them or holding back my harsh words to the lady who cut in front of me at the grocery store. Maybe. Maybe they’ll just think I’m crazy. But I haven’t given them any reason to hate me or show me disrespect. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll smile back. And,” she finished with a laugh, “We all know how much I love seeing people smile.”