When Anger banged on my front door, I carelessly let her in. I needed a friend so, I invited her to sit down. All she wanted was dark coffee, she preferred it thick and bitter. Every sip she took, she winced as it sliced down her throat, hot and painful. But still, she sat.
One Wednesday afternoon, she moved all her bags and clothes and other little things into my room. It didn’t seem like there would be space, but Anger managed to make room for herself everywhere. Her belongings scattered over mine, dark and heavy.
She infiltrated my life. Anger wiped away my tears and told me to ‘grow up’. She shook my shoulders up and breathed heavily into my face, she wanted me to take control. What a good friend. She helped me sort out my cupboards and mop the floors, and she let me vent all my frustrations as she sipped on her coffee. She interrupted my conversations, and she often made it feel like there was no air in a room.
She had a habit of sneaking out of the house at night, I never asked her where she went. I didn’t really want to know, I just drifted off to sleep knowing that she would be there in the morning when I opened my eyes.
Anger braided my hair and drew me a bath and stroked my ego. she made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Depending on her mood, she would either motivate me to be better, work harder, be braver or she would poke her thin and bony finger into my shoulder. She would poke and ask me why I cried, why I had ever thought I was invincible, she would remind me that I was nothing special. I cowered away when she was like this, I would try to brush the braids out of my dry and matted hair and ignore her until she apologised. When she finally said sorry, it was a mumble and more of a way to tangle herself back into my life, but at least I was not alone.
Last night I brushed my teeth, wiped my face and put my hair into a bun but when I walked into the room we shared, all of her things were gone. The room felt lighter and brighter. My chest seemed to rise and fall easier than it had in months. The window above the bed was ajar and I knew she wasn’t coming back, at least not for a while.