I have not been that mad at someone in a decade. Pick-up-the-phone-and-call-your-ass-out mad. Hands-shaking, pissed-off, scaring-my-parents mad.
So I did the rational thing after my outburst. I took a very, very, very long bath and read Heretics of Dune. Now that the Dali Lama has resumed his normal perch on my shoulder, I have concluded that underneath my anger lay great disappointment. Mostly in myself for believing in the better nature of others. Or the better nature of one specific person.
Why do we seek comfort while a knife is being held to our throats?
I get it man. Comfort is lovely and predictable. And people are scared of death, being alone, having to part with their money or how they are perceived by others. Reasons upon reasons upon reasons.
It was a great reminder. Trust people when they show you who they are.