Have you ever been at that breaking point? Where one more thing will push you over the edge, and cause you to go crazy? It's a bad place to be, trust me. Always waiting for it to happen. Waiting, waiting... Then it happens, and you break. You split wide open, letting it all out. You scream, you cuss, you break things, you say every mean thing you have been holding inside of you. Whatever your thing is, you do it. You do it with reckless abandon.

Then there is the afterwords. When you step back, and view all the wreckage you created. And you know, you know that you should feel bad, but you don't, not really. You feel exultant. It is nice to know you hold the power in your hand, the power to wreck lives, burn bridges, and cut people, cut them deep. Draw their blood, pay them back for all that they've done.

Then time goes by, and you start to feel bad, because all the mean things you have said, they don't go away. The words you said, they live wherever you are, following you, silently mocking your attempts at apology. They claw your back, tear at your eyes, fill your brain.

Then, maybe, if you're lucky, forgiveness comes. You can move on, go forward, keep trying. You try to do a better job. You really do. You say the right things, do the right tings, but it is all you, only you. So it builds up inside, the words you swallowed, the things you didn't do, it fills you up. Fills you right up to the brim...


... have you ever been at that breaking point?