It's been said that it's often the ones we love whom we hurt the most. Paradoxical, but plausible, given how easy it is to hurt our loved ones.

We are often gracious, tolerant and accommodating towards casual friends and acquaintances, even people we hardly know. That could be because we want to
maintain a positive impression, in view of possible future collaboration or aid. It also could be because we don't wish to appear boorish, or because we are fearful of negative reactions.

Our loved ones though, are often not so fortunate. Because we are certain of their love for us, we tend to abuse that love and take it for granted.

We may do selfish things that bring them distress or use harsh language when
we're upset because we know that they will probably bear it and forgive us. Or we may not express our love enough or spend little quality time with our loved ones because we assume that they'll always be there.

But our loved ones feel pain and neglect as keenly as any one of our friends and colleagues. Even more so, since it is someone they love who is dealing out such thoughtless afflictions. And like everyone else, they may not be around for the rest of our lives.

This is a poem written by an unknown author, about the disturbing reality of how we treat the ones we love.

They say the world is round,
Yet I often think it's square,
So many little hurts we get
From corners here and there;

But there's one truth in life I've found
While journeying East and West,
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.

We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those we love the best.