In a big, bad, horrific way.
No, there wasn’t any violence. And in truth, there really wasn’t much of an eruption. In fact, by most people’s standards of a lost temper, I was probably actually pretty sedated.
But last night, for the first time – I got really and truly angry at the boy.
And it was justifiable.
Very justifiable.
In fact, it probably should have happened weeks ago.
Maybe even months ago.
The thing is… I tend to make a lot of excuses for people. Especially the people in my life I care about. I rarely ever get truly angry with anyone. Which is totally uncharacteristic of my Aries nature. I'm supposed to be fiery. Hot tempered. Deeply passionate, but also quick to ignite. The side of me that is a nurturer though, is really good at looking at people and their circumstances and explaining away bad behavior. Even using that bad behavior as an indicator they need more understanding and support from me.
I know there were times in my past when I was more hot tempered than I am now, and there are grudges I still hold against those who hurt me the most. But as an adult, and especially in the last few years – I have become incredibly even keeled. It takes a lot to set me off. And even then, I am much more likely to walk away from a situation until I can calmly deal with it than to simply explode all over it.
Because I’m always worrying… mostly about the things that can happen in the wake of words thrown out in anger.
Words that at least sometimes, can never be taken back.
Last night though, there was a moment where I lost all my cool and understanding. A moment where angry words were thrown with ease. A moment where I was not my calm and collected self at all.
I called him names, and screamed, and yelled, and wouldn’t allow him to get a word in.
When he asked what he should do, and started to tell me he was sorry, I told him his apologies meant nothing to me anymore.
Because the truth is… they don’t.
You can only hear the same words so many times, before they begin to lose their meaning entirely.
And anyway, actions speak louder than words.
But last night… my words were speaking pretty loudly.
I went to bed upset. Flustered. Frustrated with myself for losing my cool, but also proud of my ability to finally stand up and demand to be treated how I know I deserve.
Proud of the switch that finally clicked in my head and told me to stop making excuses for him.
When I woke up this morning, I was still shaken. That’s how out of character it was for me to explode like that. To yell, and scream, and so vocally demand better from someone I care about.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the words I said, and the shock I think we both felt over my meltdown. It wasn’t like it was even triggered by anything substantial. It was just weeks, and months, of buildup.
I don’t think he or I would ever question how justifiable my anger was, but… I think we were both still shocked by the rawness of that anger. So very unlike me. So very unlike who I am or want to be.
After all, I’ve put up with a lot up to this point without ever once losing my cool.
There probably should have been a stop made between 0 and 60 on my part. A point somewhere after making excuses and meekly accepting whatever he was willing to give, but somewhere before completely ripping his head off for partaking in the same push and pull game he's been playing all along.
So, I guess there was a part of me that was embarrassed this morning. Ashamed of my behavior and the way I unexpectedly exploded. A part of me that wished I could take it all back.
But only a small part.
I was dwelling on the events of the evening though, when I received some news that rocked me back to reality.
Last night, there was a fire. A fire at my new stepmoms brother's home. I got to know them all while visiting for the wedding, and grew especially close to their little 7 year old daughter. She, and the rest of the family made it out of the house alright (although, she did need to receive treatment for smoke inhalation), but her best friend who was spending the night died last night. Apparently the little girls were in their room sleeping when an electrical fire occurred in the room. My new little cousin tried to wake up her friend, but couldn’t. Firefighters were able to pull her from the home, but she died later at the hospital. She had substantial burn injuries.
Adding to the list of things I will never understand, is children losing their lives far too young in far too tragic of circumstances.
An electrical fire.
It could happen to anyone. In any home. I just… I don’t understand. I don’t get it. It makes no sense to me at all that a young life could be lost so quickly, and with so little warning.
It tears me up to think of the little girl’s family, and the hole their lives will now forever have.
And it breaks my heart to think of my little cousin having to go the rest of her life with these memories and this loss.
I’ve been sick to my stomach and crying all morning.
Because last night, while I was losing my temper and yelling angry words I felt so justified in spewing, a little girl was losing her life.
And my new family was being thrust into a tragedy that no words will ever be able to fix.
I just don’t understand.
It makes all the rest of it seem so very inconsequential. So stupid, and petty, and unimportant.
Life is too short.
I know my stepmother and her entire extended family, as well as the family of this little girl, would appreciate any prayers, or thoughts, or love you can put out there for them right now. Things like this just shouldn’t happen.
Little girls shouldn’t die.
And life should not be so fragile.
My heart is breaking for all involved.
And I’m not sure that I will ever understand.
