roommate squabbles

So,

I'm going to keep writing on this blog as if nobody else is reading it (even though I know at least three people know of its existence).

Today, I learned a valuable lessen I highly doubt I'll forget anytime soon.

I've known for a while now that I'm afflicted with the sin of pride. I think I do a good job of hiding it with most people, but anyone that's been with me long enough is bound to sense it sometime or another. It's a terrible trait that I have to keep in check; when I let my guard down, it can often be quite destructive.

Dinner was a disaster. It's rather unfortunate that we'd have guests over to witness my first quarrel with my roommate. He got angry at me for being a bit retarded over the preparation of dinner and I just removed myself from the kitchen while I pouted. Yes, I put up a front in front of our guests to make everything seem okay, but in my heart I was actually rather bitter. I mean, it's not my fault he has a temper.

Sometimes though, it's not about who's fault it is. In fact, it's rarely a matter of fault - pointing fingers only make things more complicated (like in the case of countries). I often find the sin of pride manifesting itself in me whenever I perform something I think I'm knowledgeable in, and in this case: cooking. Retrospectively, I did realize that I had very poor communication and lack of cooking knowledge - but at the time, I simply thought, hey, I cook and clean for this apartment everyday, and I haven't managed to make anything inedible yet.

But during large group, I reflected on my actions. It's not so much about the actual cooking as the attitude I put forth, and that's something I'm not particularly proud of. The same type of pride was present back in high school when I was on a guitar high, when I slowly began to realize my [not quite the word I'm looking for, but I'll use it anyway] superiority complex, an attitude I took on when I saw the technical skills of another player inferior to my own. Nowadays, I seek to develop a heart of worship rather than an arsenal of guitar tricks and skills, and you will almost never find me playing a lone performance, but usually in a spontaneous group jamming session.

Still, I hate apologizing. Since my high school years, I've continually justified blaming others to avoid the oh so dreaded apology. And in this way, I've manage to really piss people off. I guess in some ways it's just that I've had done so much apologizing in my life that it's often difficult to garner a sincere and genuine apology. It's so much easier to just argue and leave. People hate me for that, and I hate myself for that. But relying on pride leaves you with bitterness, and I can't afford to sacrifice my friendships just to fuel my pride.

And all throughout large group, I was very distracted by these thoughts, so much so that I (regretfully) didn't pay much attention to the message given. I knew I had to apologize as soon as possible, and I had every intention to do that (even though I'm very good at acting as though nothing ever happened, which I usually do when I can't willfully justify an apology). I contemplated and formulated exactly where and when I would do this, as I usually do as an intrinsic J. My roommate, however, beat me to the punch by apologizing first, and now we're close again.

I gotta say, I'm incredibly blessed to be able to have a roommate that would care more about his friendships than his pride. I've heard a million bad roommate stories, and my roommate and I have rarely had any problems. We managed to overcome our first "fight" (if you can really call it that). And you know what, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger (well, I guess not cancer).

I got the feeling that my roommate and I will remain good friends even long after graduation.