cut

then he pulled out a knife and slashed at me with it.

he missed. well, almost. two teeny tiny spots of blood appeared over a very superficial scratch.

i tried to decide whether or not to say something. the question was one of whether or not it was my fault. i decided it wasn't, not really. i decided to say something.

it didn’t hurt anything but my feelings.

since then, he’s been defended. they tell me, i oughtn’t take it personally. it’s just how he is.

still, i felt resentful.

for years.