All a matter of pride, I suspect.

Oh, but what else was I to say?

Oh, do you remember throwing silly tantrums? When you'd push something away for silly reasons of spite or, perhaps, pettiness. You'd give it away with a pounding ache in your chest, hoping you could have just put your pride down instead of having pushed it away.

Okay, let's start with something tangible... I was a kid, probably below the age of five when my dad screamed at me for something that had a barely acceptable reason. He was in his worst moods. And it all happened in the morning.

Of course, I was angry and upset. I spent hours crying before summing up the guts to stare him straight in the eye, displaying how much I despised him just as he closed the door and left the house. No, he had to run errands. Oh, but how I enjoyed thinking he feared me.

Later that afternoon, he came back with a packet of chocolates and put it in my hands - it was for me, he said. Oh, how tempted I was to tear it open immediately and pour the tiny coloured pieces into my mouth. Only that my pride was tugging at me, it didn't allow me to do so.

So, due to my disgustingly huge pride, I threw the chocolates onto the floor and looked him straight in the eye, telling him I didn't want it. Hoping, so hard, that he'll flare up and walk off. But he bent to picked up the chocolates and calmly walked over to my sister.

I watched with utmost longing as he dropped them into her open palms, and as a smile spread across her face. I spent the night staring at her devour the chocolates. My pride was too big for me to swallow and just ask for her to share a piece of her reward.

Oh, how often do we give something we want away, just in the name of pride? A force too strong to swallow. Oh, do you ever constantly wonder what it'd be like if we had put our pride down and allowed ourselves to give instead?

I've began to wonder.