Blew Up... And Then It Blew Over

So my car was broken into, the body was dented above the door, the door bent outward, the lock screwed up by someone trying to pound a screwdriver into the keyhole...

And I think, why does this crap happen to me. There are BMW's in the parking lot, there's a WRX one street over. Why try on my Integra?

Douche bags... if I ever were to meet them, there would be no rage involved, simply me judging them. And by judging I mean a sharp object to the temple and then they're in hell.

And I blew up... after more than half a day since I found it, I finally blew up. Not as much as I remember I used to, and I can still control it. It's just a deep burning rage, and I stiff-leggedly walk back towards the building after cussing up a storm to my brother (something I haven't really done in months). I am so angry I can't even focus, my vision is blurred. And then I see you... and you're beautiful.

And my anger drops off for a split-second and I'm just seeing you. And I hear your voice and the moment ends and I feel the anger, but not as intensely as before. I retreat back to my room, tell my roommate to turn on the angriest music he has... and start losing myself in the screaming tornado that is my life.

And then you call... and I hear your voice, and there's no judgement there, just caring. It was like finding the eye of the tornado. It was relief.

And the anger was erased and I suddenly felt ashamed of the emotion that was controlling me. And I realize it's different now... I'm not alone in everything anymore. And so that is how I came to be at my current position.

I'm kind of elated. Yeah it was misfortune... but I guess it needed to happen so I could get over it, teach me how to deal with it.

You can't place value in material things... because they can be stolen, destroyed, or lost. Ironic how Sarah and I had had that very conversation about 6 hours before I found my deck stripped out of the dash.