Out of Control

  Such fury as I have never known. Such anger as should not be felt by any man. To think the things I could have done to her. No one has ever pushed me so far, has drawn from me such anger as she has. I could feel it like a savage beast barreling through my veins, through my chest, my arms, my mouth. It was consuming me. When she stood up and pushed me, I grabbed her arms. I pushed her onto the couch. I held her there as she writhed and fought and tried to kick and claw. I would not let go. I could not. I did not grab her for fear that she might hit me, but because I did not know what I would do if she did.

 I could feel my control dwindling, not relinquished through joy or love, but abraded by her sharp tongue and constant assaults, pushing me closer and closer to that edge. Like a cord pulled taut I could hear the individual twines snapping as she cut away at them, and I could feel the monster in me pulling harder, screaming for release as his shackles slowly came loose.

 I held her so, on the couch with my hands on her arms holding her tightly in place, until I could feel the chains lock, until the door could close and seal it in once more. I could not let go until I knew I was in control once more. After it was done I did let go, and I sat down, and though she wailed like the four winds, though she said all she could to draw me out, it was too late. This battle was over. We had both lost. Her words of how I surely bruised her arms went unanswered, her insults were barely acknowledged. I let her sit there on the couch where I released her and let all her rage and frustration out on me like a hurricane against a tree. I did not bend, and I did not break. I only stayed where I was until it passed.

 And pass it did. Behind it all I found the fear and anxiety she was hiding. After the storm I saw the troubled waters beneath. We spoke more calmly then, and though we did not solve anything, no answers were found that night, we left each other with a little more understanding, and hopefully a little less pain. But still, as I lay in bed that night, I could feel that rage inside of me, stronger now for being so close to release. I could feel the breath of the beast on the back of my neck, feel his growl in my own throat, and hear his howl in my ear. Sleep took long to find me, and when it did I dreamed of beasts...