Beagling

There was a crash and a silence and I ran and was scared but saw him walking and was ok until I heard him call for me in the "uh-oh" voice that I hadn't heard before because he is usually in control of it all. The cash got tighter and we needed a car because the other one broke and wasn't working. The old feelings came back, the ones where I'm mad at the world, when everything really does go red, and green, and it's hard to think and I just want to grab lightning bolts out of the air and throw them. This time it's different though, not mad at him. Last time I nearly crashed it myself from being so angry, pulling sideways into the driveway and nearly crashing someone else, running in and shaking him and throwing things and kicking things and pushing things and punching things until the pain made me focus on an outlet. Don't take my money from me from being stupid, the theme that time, and the time before when the glasses were rolled up in the hot tent and the milk powder went everywhere in the humid place where I already said I would kill him. I wonder if it's maternal or paternal but somehow I think it's both... mothers is murderous, fathers is loud, I combine them both myself and learned them from a young age and it's something that seems to go deep inside me and I get so angry at the whole world and refuse to learn anything. Take the cowards way out, make a pain come that's real and not just internally bursting. I looked and saw fear in his eyes and forgot that he hadn't always been there to see it all and I might have told him about it but it's not the same as being there. Forgot that I had crashed before and how scary it is and that he needs me to hold him, not be angry. He has tears of sorry but really, really, I'm not mad at him, just mad full stop, knew it was going to happen somehow. Again I focus on irrelevancies and get stubborn and scared in them. The tears stop me for a moment but then back to the anger and yelling and I want to hold him so I can stop myself but it's not the way. Then another crash comes, behind me, but I can see his face, it isn't good, I don't and won't believe it but there is a gap on the wall now. I look and there are pieces everywhere. "Why does that happen when I walk into the room?" he asks, more tears coming but I don't ever ever want him to cry ever, and I scream out "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" and then it dawns. Two weeks into it and this test comes and I started to fail it and my ancestors call to me through the art of my grandfather and wake me and shake and I am calmed. I see clearly. If I want to throw lightning bolts there are consequences. So many better ways of using the energy at my disposal. Must not aim them near my beloved, must use them only when necessary, to defend what is ours, not to break what we love and make holes between us. Served the purpose, seen what is there in me, what I am scared of and despise but see as a necessary part of the balance, don't have to tell a story about it. Will I see his? Do I want to? Not until necessary, I know his is the same but he again brought it out and examined it at a young age and mastered it. My great big defense-ego stopped me learning a lot of lessons. Didn't stop loving him even a moment and at that precise point know that he is the always. Ride some aftershocks of habitual doubt and bad beagleness but I know I can learn now, I know I can listen, I know I can be better and still be me.