" You can be so stupid, Calvin,” Aunt Beatrice finally said. It was the second time in as many hours that she’d called me stupid. And though she said it in her normal bright tone, I could feel and hear how much she really meant it. “Did I hurt your feelings, Calvin?” my aunt said in that same tone, her face still underneath the cloth. I admitted that she had and then waited for her to apologize. She didn’t, of course. She did remove the cloth, though, so that maybe I could better see and hear how sorry she wasn’t. “Good,” Aunt Beatrice said, and then added, “I said what I said because it was true. And because I wanted to.” Fuck you is what I wanted to say and is what I should have said because it was what I wanted to say, and that was the lesson here: say what you want to say. “Just because you say something is true,” I said instead, trying to control my voice, trying to keep the pain out of it, “and just because you say what you want, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” My aunt nodded. “If it doesn’t hurt,” she said, “then you’re not doing it right. "

― Brock Clarke , Who are You, Calvin Bledsoe?