I like to think of myself as a reasonable sort of person- someone who doesn't get angry unless seriously provoked, someone who doesn't engage in pointless in-fighting, someone who doesn't become sadistic and hurtful for any reason. But the person who wrote that insane screed against Walter from a couple of days ago was absolutely none of these things. He was a bitter, vengeful, heartless prick who gave in to half-thought-out motives and complete selfishness in order to degrade someone who clearly deserves better.
Why did I do it? Really, I'm not someone who walks around with a chip on his shoulder- at least, I didn't think I was. I didn't have some horrible hurt or unbearable stress that forced me to lash out. I didn't have any extenuating circumstance that would perhaps explain my using Walter as a whipping boy. My life's good, I'm relatively calm, I'm doing fine. So what the hell was the point of my absurd fury?
I didn't think this was it at the time, but I think it boils down to jealousy. Jealousy over the following that Walter has. And there's no real reason for that, either- I have my outlets, I'm not wanting for attention. But some essential greed in my nature that I hadn't acknowledged made me want more, more, more- and the result was that inexcusable rant, where I accused Walter of many the things for which I was myself guilty.
I'm shocked at myself for my arrogance and cruelty. And I'm horrified to have hurt Walter, who despite my incoherent ravings does a great job at FFC. He deserves his following, and if that got a bee in my bonnet that should have been my problem. But now the damage is done, and I'm completely ashamed.
I've sent you an e-mail, Walter, but I figured I should say publicly as well: I'm sorry. I wish I could make it up to you. And I'll never cross you again on such trivial bullshit or for ludicrous spiteful reasons that I should work out for myself before blowing up.