“I feel like you think you’re better than me”
“I am” I retorted, in my head.
I said it to God too, severally. I wanted God to settle the score for me so I petitioned him from my high horse. It was good too because I didn’t feel there was anything that could be held against me in that particular situation.
I had a sense of entitlement. I deserved better. I was worth more. This wasn’t what I bargained for and I wasn’t going to stop being angry. The situation demanded the best-brewed fury that agony could buy, and I was not going to disappoint. Someone needed to feel as horrible as I was feeling. I thought it would make me feel better.