When I have to put the anger out, it has nothing to do with pride. Some things go further than that. I'm watching intentions I have no control over take their place inside my head. And I didn't put them there. I know what I've seen. I know what was said. One face when I'm present. Another when I'm not. And I'm left dealing with both. I've gone over it for hours. Every word. Every reaction. Everything I couldn't say. And somehow, it feels just as recent as when it happened. I can't keep doing this! I stood my ground. And still got shot down. I tried to keep my peace, but it was taken apart again. There's nothing left I know how to put together. And if nobody outside of me can acknowledge what happened, what am I supposed to do with everything I'm carrying? I swallowed what I wanted to say. Bit my lip hard enough to remind myself to stop. I had to stay composed while I was coming apart inside. And I still don't know which feeling came first. The shame I shouldn't have carried, or the responsibility that was placed on me. I lost my pride a long time before today. I didn't think there was much left to take. I'm hurt. And I'm tired of pretending that being able to contain it means it didn't happen. I feel betrayed. Not because I expected perfection. Because I expected what was said to me to mean the same thing when I wasn't there. And now I'm questioning things I thought I understood. I stood my ground. And still got shot down. I held my tongue. I carried the blame. I kept myself together for everyone else to see. But there's nothing left I know how to put together. And ego death found me again. Not because I surrendered. Because the cost of staying composed was higher than before. I'm not waiting for something to happen to me. I'm waiting for accountability. For the person who stood there and made their reality more important than mine. Because life was already difficult. And I didn't need someone else deciding how much more I could take.
