Your Apology
You're saying I have to actually accept your apology? I've never accepted an apology before. I wouldn't know where to start.
Isn't it enough that I acknowledge your apology? See, that's how I normally do things. You apologize; I nod and say "uh huh"; then, I explain exactly what you did wrong back to you. That way you know that I recognize your many faults, and we can move forward.
Well, I guess we can't really move forward, because I refuse to stop seething. I just keep looping through all the things you've done wrong, which implies that I still have a problem with you. Which I do. That's the whole point.
If I accept your apology, that ends it right there. Clean slate. Tabula rasa. It means I can never again passive-aggressively bring up your misdeed. What's the point in that? It's as if you don't want me holding petty grudges. Wha?
If I accept your apology, there would be no snowballing of emotional baggage. [Shut up, I know it's a mixed metaphor. Give me a break. Don't point out my mixed metaphors again, unless you want an earful about the time you ate the last donut. I'm still mad about that.]
Listen, what I'm saying is this: You apologized. That's on you. If you crave forgiveness so bad, maybe you shouldn't do anything wrong in the first place.
Now, get off your knees and stop crying. You're making me feel empathy for your mistakes. I hate that.
