You know what else is more difficult to deal with than people speaking ill of you behind your back and spreading false, negative rumors about you?

It's being feared by the people who saw a part of your missing self. It's those wary glances and nervous laughs they release when they're around you. It's that little gesture you see that wants you to ask them what you did wrong.

It's not pleasant to be feared by people just because you once found something honest about yourself, which just so happens to be anger.

You start to sense something wrong.

Then observe.

Determine.

And finally, you start to fear your own hands.

What might these hands to those whom I consider important to me? What might these hands do to the innocent ones when I lose the current me to how I really am?

It's scary to think about it. Someone once told me that I have to stop fighting that shard of myself that constantly tries to break free. But I can't. I got so used to keeping it at bay that when the skin can no longer stand the pressure, the piece lashes out like a speedy whip and hurts someone before I can even notice it.

I don't even notice the rage until it comes out.

And when the temporary blindness goes away, all has fallen into chaos. It may not be chaos in a physical state, but the relationships have now been messed up. They'd be wary. Assessing you silently, making sure to keep a safe distance away from you.

To think that they once considered you as an equal... It hurts... I guess?