The Consequences of Arrogance

I didn’t know how arrogant you were when I first met you. If I did, I would have turned around and walked away. I didn’t know though, so I didn’t walk away. You enticed me with your charming smile and sparkly eyes. It was only after you moved in with me that I realised. When talking to people, you would always shush me if I tried to say something. Not only that, but in debates, you would always shout about everyone else and say that you were right, and if anyone said anything after that, you would tell them to leave. I began to hate you. I couldn’t bear being in the same room as you, because I knew you thought you were better than me. After a few months, I told you to leave and never come back. You spat on me, so I broke your nose with my fist. You tried to fight back, but I managed to punch you in the crotch before you could hit me. I believe that it was then that you finally got the message. You hobbled out of the flat, holding your nose to stop the blood from going everywhere. Apparently, after that you weren’t quite so arrogant. People had told me that you had clearly learnt from the experience, and that your nose still looked like it had been pinned across your face. I suppose it’s a reminder of the consequences of arrogance. I’m starting to believe in karma now, especially since I heard that you were living in a nasty little council flat. Serves you right. That’s all I have to say.