I never thought that I could get so angry that I could make such a scowly face and hang onto it long enough to unleash sheer torment on the recipient of my anger, but, regrettably, I was wrong.
I'd like to say that such a face, such a mood, such a wailing of furious fists was somehow justified, but you wouldn't believe me, and I honestly wouldn't actually like to say that because I know better now than to lie to you and me.
There I was, my bottled rage fit to bursting, a pack of lies screaming in my ear to give him just what he deserves, and nothing to stop me but me.
I didn't stop myself. One moment I was walking out that door, and the next I was listening to those lies, uncorking the bottle, and letting him have it.
My actions became a frenzied blur, and when I paused long enough to see the look of betrayal and hurt in his eyes, all I wanted was a magic rewind button, anything that could take me back to the moment before I stepped foot back into that room.
But this is not a blog about the what-ifs and the coulda-beens. I'm writing here about coming to terms with the consequences for my actions, accepting accountability, and learning better ways to process my anger than the knee-jerk reaction of that not-so-pretty face.
I’m also writing just for the sake of writing my thoughts, feelings, and reflections about living in this strange modern world I call home. After all, my life amounts to so much more than one night of erroneous criminal action, subsequent mugshot/incarceration, court dates, consequences and lifelong regret. I’m coming to terms with that one bad night as well as every day I live and breathe.
