Unequal

"I don't want to owe anybody anything, so I keep myself as much on the lending side as I can." - 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami

I hate people who take advantages of others. That being said, it doesn't mean that I never took advantage of other people, but in a broad sense, I gave more than take. I guess it is something in human nature to do things that would benefit themselves. To steal the front in a queue, to take the bigger bite, to choose the creamier slice, to hold on to a better seat, to do less work, etc.

Why do I hate it so much if it's human nature? It could be because I am always the one who is taken advantage of. It is my attitude to give. I do not like competing, and I can always accept the less advantageous side of things. Maybe I just don't give a damn to a lot of things, and when you don't care, you don't fight for it. Since I do not mind yielding, I let other people seize the better without complaining or feeling unfair. However, toward this attitude of mine, people, a lot of times, will utilize it, or do not even notice that they are draining my endurance.

I hate people who don't understand that if you are taking something, you better giving something back, even of lesser quantity; people who think that life should always go the way they wanted and whatever they want can be obtain at ease; and people who simply insist they always have the best of everything, and thus, use every mean to achieve it. Why is it that they can not back down for once? I guess I hate them because I am powerless toward them. They could strip me off my last possession and I could do nothing. That is because I hate to 'take'.

Countless time in my life had I been taken advantage of blatantly. In high school, I sat next to this girl who was very clever and dominating. In casual conversation, I was on the same level with her, but when it came to choosing some thing, she would always snatch the best options. I didn't mind, because things that she thought to be the best didn't concern me. My original seat was in the middle while hers was on the side, next to the teacher's walkway. Sometimes she would randomly change the seat with me, and I don't mind. One day we had a history exam (yes, I still remembered the subject). She was already sitting at my seat without my approval, and I knew she wanted to sit there because the teacher would less likely to watch her if she sat inside. First of all, it was my original seat. Second of all, I didn't believe in having the inside seat created better condition for the exam. After all, I knew that she wanted to open her notes. I was furious inside. I didn't want her to continue pushing me to her benefits just because I didn't act against her. So I told her to return to her seat with a casual tone. She did not, obviously, but also talked back to me so sharply that I couldn't restrain anymore. I burst into tears and ran out. It was not obvious that I cried. I did not make any sound or hiss. But I did walk out of class and stand in the hallway, looking down at the trees.

I never really cried because I was sad. I cried because I was angry. It was a kind of anger and oppression that couldn't be expressed by words.

I always hate this type of people. And I don't know how I ended up being their close friends.