I know we've already had beef in the past given that I don't think our government should mandate grown adults to wear you. (I mean, I get the spirit of the law, but I just don't see how it's anyone's business if I want to risk flying through the windshield into oncoming traffic should I get into a collision.)
But now, I officially hate you. And I just think it's better to come straight to you about this, versus sullying your name all over town behind your back. I think we're both mature enough to handle direct confrontation, especially given our recent run-in.
I am diligent about wearing you on a regular basis (which may or may not have something to do with the fact that my uber-safe vehicle will not stop pestering me if I don't), but when my lovely gentleman and I smacked into a median this past snowy Saturday evening, you straight up screwed me. Not only did you give me a nice shiner on my chest and hips, but you did a number on my sternum as well. In fact, you gave me a straight up panic attack yesterday morning when I supposed I was bleeding internally. (I do accept some fault for this assumption. It was a bit unfounded, but I was scared. Leave it alone.) Your actions resulted in worry for my friends, my family, and the aforementioned fella, and for that, I could punch you in your shiny, smug clasp.
Had the accident been worse, we may well be having a very different conversation (if at all), but it wasn't. And so you remain on my Shit List.
I just wanted you to be aware.
I hope you're happy with yourself,