... And somedays, the bear eats you.
Tom taught me that expression this morning. Along with another: "Slapping the bear."
It describes perfectly the way I feel when I dare to confront a person I know and get "whacked" for doing that.
And I wonder why,
a) I confronted it,
b) why do I care when I get whacked?
c) why do I think of it as "getting whacked?"
d) why do I still need acknowledgement after all these years?
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