The Anger Perfume

I am officially angry.

It wasn’t the easiest conclusion to reach since my anger was fleeting; always dissipating like the top note of perfume, usually giving way to the lingering middle and base notes of compassion and love.  But as time passes, this emotion, no longer encapsulated by the many other faces of grief, lingers in the air demanding to be acknowledged and felt as it lands on my skin. 

But, I don’t know how to resolve it.   

The emotions of sadness and acceptance wax and wane during the day but anger is rigid; its grip constrictive and suffocating and I want to dismiss it but I can’t.  It won’t let me.  It wants to be called out.  All of it.  

  

Some of my anger feels acceptable.  Maybe it’s not my right to be angry that Aaron took his own life but I feel justified in being angry that he chose to do so in front of me, in my house, in my room....with my gun.  I feel justified in being angry about the dominos that crashed down afterward like being unable to sleep in my own room and having to make the call to have my duty gun destroyed.   I’m angry over the absolute mind-screw of keeping a gun on my nightstand reminding me of what happened but being unable to sleep without it in arms reach.  In the same way 9/11 changed the way we travel, 6/23 changed the way I look at my weapon.   We still travel but it’s not the same and it never will be.  Lord knows I spot my weapon every time I walk into my room and can’t help but dwell about it every night before I fall asleep.  I’ll always have access to a weapon for protection but it will never feel the same; it’ll always be attached to the incident from June 23rd regardless if it’s a new Glock or not.  

But there’s a hidden anger that feels undeniably selfish and indignant.  It’s harder to resolve because how dare I say anything is unfair when a man’s life was lost. 

But, Aaron took his own life.

And, this is my struggle.  Aaron’s gone, but that it was his choice brings to the surface every injustice I feel as a result of his own actions.  It’s ugly.  I feel shame over it.  I don’t talk openly about the facets of this particular anger but that doesn’t diminish its existence. If anything, ignoring it only intensifies it.   It remains a potent ingredient in the top note of that nasty perfume.  It doesn’t dissipate to love and compassion because it’s a top note of inequity - an injustice that cannot be easily resolved. 

But anger and bitterness doesn’t smell beautiful on anyone.  

Its potency is driving me insane but I’ll try desperately to dilute it. Aaron's cologne which I wear daily is composed of rosemary, pineapple, neroli, bergamot and lemon as top notes. 

But, my guess is that there are two top note ingredients to the perfume that heals, restores and brings peace:

Prayer and forgiveness. 

I'll apply those every day and I'll keep applying them until they fully saturate the anger.  And when that day comes, I'll breathe deeply into those top notes knowing that I have permanently placed that anger at the foot of the cross.  

Oh how sweet that perfume will be....