The Right vs. The Wrong

I am frustrated with right and wrong lately. Frustrated while I try to understand a simple concept, yet am unable to grasp it. Who is right and wrong? No one can answer my questions when I ask. No one can tell me why they are right – yet they have a thousand and one reasons why the other person in question is wrong. Like a group of ten year olds arguing over who is better, this world has come to. Why do some things matter so much to some people? I will never understand.

Why does it matter who is right and who is wrong? Why does it matter if one person does it this way, and another that way? Why does it matter if you don’t agree with this person? Why does there have to be a right and wrong? And why cant there just be a moment in time where people agree to simply disagree. And make nothing more of it. If they cant accept that everyone isn’t like them, then I say do away with right and wrong and just have a happy middle ground – which will never exist, because people. They love to be right. They HAVE to be right. They arent happy until everyone knows just how right they are, and how wrong everyone else is.

I struggle with understanding this. I struggle to accept things I have been forced to believe. The things I was taught to believe when I was younger, without understanding, I am revisiting. And finally, breaking out to ask the questions that have taunted me my whole life.

Why.

What is right? What is wrong? Who. Who defines this invisible line of right vs. wrong? It seems as though everyone has their own opinion and no one can tell me why they are right. Not one person.

“Because…” and they rattle off the reasons the other person is wrong. Supposing, I guess, that all the reasons they are wrong, must be why they are so right.

Because I don’t live the way you do – I am wrong. Because I don’t have the standard American life – I am wrong. Because I was handed this life – I am wrong. Because I have taken steps to make things what I consider to be ok – I am wrong. Because I am trying to raise the kids this way – I. Am wrong.

I never said I was right, and don’t understand why people feel the need to point out just how wrong I am. Am I a threat? Do I really look like I know what I am doing? Do I really appear to have it figured out? I don’t understand what I have done to give off this appearance. I might as well be standing there with my hands in the air and a sign around my neck that says “I do NOT understand. Help.” Because that is how hopeless and helpless I feel on most days. But some reason – people think they must continually tell me just how wrong I am. Incase I missed that part.

Because I am wrong, life has turned out this way. Because of something I have done, I am being punished. Because I have committed a sin, Because I am unrepentant, Because I question things – I am being beaten down until I realize – I am wrong.

Did I know that?

It’s the single most common question I have asked. The hardest thing I have heard. And the most difficult thing I have struggled with. Because of something I have done, the people I love, have paid for it…except that…did I know? They are “better off” and I am left to push on without them – because of something I have done.

Did I know that?

I have asked, my entire life what I did. And have gotten no answer. No one can answer my questions. No one can tell me.

And then.

The death of a man who was, perfect.

His family, left to suffer. Why? What did THEY do?

I can accept if I have done something. I can be ok with my life being in shreds because of something I have done – I never said I was perfect, never claimed to be right. But there are people who are. Who don’t claim to be, but are. And they too are in the same boat as me – and I have to wonder why.

What did they do?

Are they really right? If we are on opposite sides of the pendulum – then why are we both being treated with the same unfairness. Or fairness.

I want answers. And no one has them. No one can answer my questions. And so I file them away. Try to keep them hidden. Only to resurface when someone asks me:

Do you know? Do you know how wrong you are, and how right I am? Do you?

And I answer back. Quietly. Yes. Yes I know.

But I don’t understand.

And probably never will.

I am ok with being wrong; Just like you are ok with being right. I understand that I am wrong. I understand that you are right. But I don’t understand why. I don’t understand what makes one person right, and I don’t understand why they can tell me why they are right.

There is no right way to do wrong.

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