All I Know is Anger

I feel like all I know is anger. I know my friends, my family, would ask me to set it aside, focus on something else. My therapist says to go ahead and experience emotions.

All I feel is anger. Like a hot boiling pot of acid at the back of my throat, waiting to choke me at a moments notice. I can’t turn it off anymore than I could turn off the crippling depression or any other feeling I’ve been consumed by.

Let’s be honest, let’s drop pretense. I’m jealous, I’m angry that it’s not me. That she would choose this guy over me. That she would choose this guy over anything, being single. I feel betrayed by my friend, betrayed by Carrie, betrayed by my friends that turn a blind eye. I feel the world leaning against me to just shutup and let life happen.

I want to tell her she’s disgusting, that what she’s doing is despicable. That her revenge is now complete. That I don’t love her anymore and pretty soon, I’ll just hate her. It seems to be all that’s left in my heart. I can’t focus on myself, or Bonni, or life. I just feel this burning rage, this absolute need to hurt and be heard.

I’ve avoided writing about this because I knew what it would bring to the surface. While I sit here with hot furious tears rolling down my face, I know I’m right. I think I’m bitter. I don’t know.

Every time I try to ‘summarize’ everything my head. I got depressed, and sad. I dropped the ball and I looked for solace in alcohol and someone else. I never wanted to hurt anyone, I never wanted away from Carrie. When she responded with betrayal, it was almost too much. I think I deserve understanding if not forgiveness. I got nothing, I got worse than nothing. I got betrayal, I got to watch Carrie make a huge mistake, with my mouth gagged from saying anything about it. Now I’ve gotten to watch her roll around in that mistake for the better part of a year. A fucking year.

I realize it’s 8-9 months since this all happened. I really though that by now I might be doing better, might be putting this behind me. I never imagined waking up quaking with rage, biting back the bile of resentment. What’s happening? Nothing. Nobody is jamming anything in my face, talking about, mentioning her. I have no fuel for this fire, yet it burns. I hope that by writing about it I can try to put it to rest. I’ll write until I feel the anger drain.

There’s points of view and feelings that I avoid. Despite all my therapy, honesty, and self-improvement. I am scared to admit that I’m jealous. That I could even be jealous of such a wretch. That I care enough to be jealous. The depth of my caring offends me, it makes me feel less than I am. Like I’m dragging behind a lame leg I begged to be amputated.

Sometimes like sunshine between the clouds, I think of forgiveness. Of letting her go into the world with grace and my blessing. That somehow, something I can do will bring her peace, and make her stop running. She is running. She’s deep into a relationship built on lies, betrayal, codependency. There’s nothing in the stars that indicate this will go any direction but south. It will blow up and it will end. I’m just tired of waiting around, wishing I could say “I told you so”. We humans need so badly to learn our own lessons.

If she’s worthy of my love, than she will figure this out. She will leave him in the dirt behind her, where he belongs. He’s not the worst person ever, but he’s not someone to envy, someone to draw closer into your life. The Carrie I know, the beautiful, smart, hard-working person that I had to fight tooth and nail to make things work with, wouldn’t just roll over and settle for awful.

As I grieve, mourn, hate and vent, it goes to show that we’re both probably not over it. I lay there in the mornings with Bonni next to me, comfortable and happy. We have no labels and we just enjoy each other. Then I think of everything I’ve lost and I feel hatred and spite, sickness and sadness. I shouldn’t feel that way, not next to her, or anyone. I’m afraid it will taint our relationship, keep it from ever going further. Sometimes I’m glad it will. It means I don’t have to care or put my trust in someone again.

If there’s anyone in the world I thought would never hurt me. it’s Carrie. Even now I can tell how it pains her. But she did. She struck back in revenge. Hell hath no fury, and they’re not fucking kidding. Now it’s not revenge, now it’s sad. I’m tired of watching someone I respected become a lesser person. I’m tired of feeling responsible for that. Tired of hoping that if he went away, maybe, maybe then, we could talk. Hug. Cry. Do everything we should have done.

She wants to do the divorce paperwork. I don’t have the money for it, I’m still drowning in debt and barely keeping afloat. Looking for work, wondering if I’ll end up in a drive-thru. I don’t want to do her any favors. I feel like it’s her guilt pushing her to get this done. I don’t want to lift that burden for her. All the things I hold back from saying, from doing, I ball up in one resentment. Fuck you, you’ll get no favors from me, no kind words, no paperwork. It’s the only way I have to left to hurt you back. The only weapon I have any more to defend myself. Just denying her. I can’t bring myself to unload on her, to give credence to my hate. I’m walking a tightrope between sanity and fury. Trying to find compassion.

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