Today was a difficult one. Everyone has those days, of course. But mine didn't have to be so. It was my own doing, and for that I am sorry.
It started innocently enough. The day, I mean. A bit of beauty in the clear blue sky, the sun. Nice, to be sure.
As the day warmed, so did I.
Mistakenly, I reminisced of times I should have long forgotten. And so, I became agitated and distracted. Those days of old have bittered and hardened me to a point not to be recovered from easily.
Though I try.
A touch of rage nipped at me whilst I drove the car this afternoon. It was not just that the young driver in front of me was clearly distracted for a great length of the road. Instead, the trigger was the reaction I received shortly after my slight tap on the horn when we were stopped at the light.
Never mind, the light burned green for its duration. That the driver sat staring blankly at it, while I sat behind him in frustration.
Never mind, that when he finally decided to go, the light was yellow, then nearly burning through a red light I did.
No. He took it further and jabbed an unkind finger in the air. Yes, I suppose it was my doing, his temporary paralysis at the green light. He then proceeded to drive recklessly in front of me, nearly causing me to crash with my children on board.
Never mind, all that.
My largest fault began after avoiding contact, firmly slamming the brakes, and hitting the horn in hopes of raising awareness at the fire station nearby.
Yes, I pursued the young fellow. Actually hoping he'd pull over for a chat of sorts. So he'd not flee without having had a piece of my mind to mull.
Luckily, for us all, I suppose, he never pulled over. No harm came to his ego, I'm sure. No harm to the children, thankfully.
My eldest daughter, sickened by my behaviour, sat angry next to me. And I, sat disappointed. In myself.
This is not who I am. I am not some enraged animal, out for vengeance. Am I?
When I think of who I once was, and who I'd like to be, I don't see this darkness. When it wells up, this confused cloud, it saddens me. Frustrating it is, I thought I'd come so far. But no.
Perhaps, it is a small thing.
For those like me, whose past has been tortured to an unimaginable brink by one other hateful soul... surely they could understand. For the rest, it is difficult to explain. Nearly best to avoid trying.
I've had dreams of recapturing that light, the innocence of trust I'd held in others to be kind. Truly there is a decent music in my heart. But still, there is the fear that is provoked by sometimes the simplest of things.
Why must we need be so ugly...
It tires me, so...
