I've never been much one for anger, I've always felt like it's something that's not supposed to be let out or shown.
Having been disciplined as a child that expressing anger, disagreement or doubts was not allowed and if done in front of "others" would be punishable time and again.
If you ignore it enough it sort of goes away, hides deep down inside and becomes a kind of armor. A way to get some breathing space, the numbness settles in like a second skin and embraces you like no other.
Eventually you're so used to holding back, not giving in to it, you no longer know what it actually feels like to be angry. Little things spike you here and there but you keep it all locked up tight. Nothing sets you off because most walk away when they see signs of something stirring, and leave well enough alone.
But over time your patience changes, you no longer accept the negative energy around you or allow things you did before. It makes you brutal, ruthless.
And you start to slip away, to see things that you always knew were there but never really wanted to believe. Because somehow you hoped that you meant more than that. Because you know deep down you deserved more than that.
And you know the time has come and gone, time to cut it away.
Till what was left of you slips away, washed off in the memories.
