Sorry First

Being the first to apologize really makes an impression on the receiver. I was reminded of this fact just recently after a rather heated argument with my roommate. I was furious. Me and my roommate have been close friends for 12 years now. We’ve lived together for six. We’ve been there for each other through big life decisions, tumultuous relationships and the entirety of our twenties. Our friendship has weathered its share of bitter storms, small disagreements and weeks-long argument standoffs. There’s an incredible amount of care in our friendship and trust. Even during a fight, I know that we’ll somehow manage to make amends and return to best-friend status. Unfortunately, mutual love and trust do not cage all arguments. Sometimes, shockingly hurtful words run free between us.

Unfortunately, mutual love and trust do not cage all arguments. Sometimes, shockingly hurtful words run free between us.

Because we’ve been a part of each other’s lives for so long, my roommate and I have grown accustomed to each other, maybe too much so. At times, it can feel like they take me for granted, that they’re quick to uttering overly candid and cutting remarks. We are prone to bickering. This sometimes too-comfortable tone is what sparked a truly inflammatory fight the other night. What could have been a healthy confrontation about household chores exploded into a cold war of cleaning. Eye rolling and raised voices turned to silent anger — each of us scrubbing the house to spite the other, fuming all the while. The amount of bleach I used to clean the bathroom (“BETTER THAN THEY EVER COULD”) gave me a runny nose for days. Our fight is not something I’m proud of, though it did leave our house in spotless condition. Still, the next day, I was at an impasse of what to do. I was still angry at my roommate for raising their voice with me. I honestly didn’t know whether I was ready to forgive them. The whole situation made being home, in its stunning glory, an altogether uncomfortable experience. I was unable to enjoy the fruits of our labor because we worked in spite. Luckily, these feelings didn’t last long. The next afternoon I received a text from my roommate apologizing for the way they spoke to me. This gentle, unexpected apology really melted my icy resentment. At other times of our friendship we would have ignored each other and fought for days before finding peace. Their own unprovoked acknowledgement of their harsh tone allowed me to reflect on my own misbehavior. We met to talk about our hard feelings. By then, there was little more to say than: I’m sorry, I care about you and I’m excited to move past this together.