I was tasked to write out my feelings regarding someone who was one of the biggest adversarial people in my whole life.  The exercise designed to help me relinquish and release my long held rage and resentment.  I wrote seven and a half pages.  I ran out of words.  But I didn't run out of rage.

I have carried molten, violent, unfulfilled rage toward this person for at least a decade.  This person is dead, and yet I still hold a belly full of rage.  Raw, ragged, bitter, acidic rage.

It consumes such resources with its existence.  I have carried this wicked ember for so long that despite the fact that it no longer serves a purpose, I don't know how to release it or extinguish it.  It is a companion I have grown too used to despite despising that it exists at all.  I also cannot help but wonder how life will feel without the burn I've become so used to.  

I feel it sitting like a silent scream, desperate to wrack my body in ragged convulsions of hot tears and roaring sobs.  I feel that if I were to relinquish my hold on it, the rage would wring me dry, and maybe consume me outright.  It feels like once the bottle is uncorked and the demon released, its force, alone, will use me up in a blinding, all-encompassing, soul-fire blaze.

Will I survive it?  What will be left of me?  What lies beneath it?  What will take the place it leaves empty and desolate?  Will I be the same when it's done with me?

gws