Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it poured. -Mark Twain

In times like these, where reality shows have taken over television and wars are waged via social networking systems, arguments are decadent. We indulge in them as if they were a favored brand of Irish whiskey and hurl insults at people we don't even know because we're safe behind our computer screens. We instigate fights with the far away people who live in our phones purely for interesting Twitter feed content. In a world where Amanda Bynes announces to the entire Twitter-verse that she wants Drake to quote, "murder her vagina," I'm sorry, friends but we have lost any sort of grip on reality. And it's terrifying.

But sometimes I get a little dramatic (I know, right? Me? Never...) because while these absent minded and sometimes incredibly insensitive modes of communication worry me, that's not what this blog is about. It's about those fights (on the Internet or otherwise) that escalate to the point of literal non-existence. Those arguments that get so heated that one person inevitably throws their hands in the air and walks away forever. What pushes people to the point that they're exhausted of trying because it's no longer worth it? What makes them hit the door when the only life they've ever had is being left abandoned behind them?

Civilization began the first time an angry person cast a word instead of a rock. -Sigmund Freud

I'll admit it: I have a temper. Both of my parents are pretty hot blooded so I suppose it was bound to happen. But I don't get angry often and on those rare occasions when I do, it takes a lot to get me going. I'm really good at curbing my feelings and putting on a smile while I'm fantasizing about flicking people in the face. It's part of being a woman, I guess. You've got to stay classy, even when people don't deserve it.

But above all things, I am understanding. Almost to a fault. (It drives my husband crazy.) There is only one person in this entire world that I will never understand or forgive, no matter how many psychology or anger management classes I take. And we've all seen that movie. We all know how it ends.

I have this friend who is gorgeous, wise beyond her years and a surprisingly good writer and yet, she has the absolute worst luck with men. And I'm not talking about the typical shady behavior that some men partake in. I'm talking about those really bad things that make you sit back and recalculate your millions of druthers to figure out how in the hell you ended up here. Every man she came into contact with seemed to be marginally worse than the last. Like Bucky Bleichert once said, Who are these men who feed on others? What do they feel when they cut their names into someone elses life?

And so, single she remains and probably will, for awhile at least. Because in these instances, why bother, right? You're only going to get your heart broken when he leaves or betrays you. He gets to go on living life and you're left a shattered mess with your heart on your sleeve. Until the next man comes along and breaks it twenty fold.

When you are angry or frustrated, what comes out? Whatever it is, it's a good indication of what you're made of. -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Her last break-up was terrible. It's been almost a year and I know she's still reeling. She puts up a good front and swears she's much better at forgetting him but I know better. I can see the darkness in her eyes and the emptiness in her smile. She's well versed in exhibiting a happy sense of calm and a well practiced facade but I know her. I see through it. I see the timid hesitation before she speaks because of a man who made it his life's work to tear her down, to tear her apart.

I can see through it all. But I'll never tell. Her secret is safe with me.

But despite all the torment, the scars on the surface and deep within, despite all the feelings and other things she had invested in this man, she would always pose to me the same questions: How could he just walk away from this? How could he just leave me, injured and alone, without any consideration for my well being? How could he just throw me away like last week's garbage? "How could he ever be that angry," she spoke to me, her already dark chestnut eyes growing even darker, "that he just walked away from someone forever without so much as an I can't do this anymore?" How can there ever be any closure?

No questions. No forgiveness. No words. No nothing. Just lonely, empty face filled with incessant reminders and reruns of their last fight. It's the only thing she has left.

To this day, he has never tried to contact her, knowing what kind of emotional and physical turmoil he put her through. Now, tell me something: Are people seriously that grossly selfish? I don't understand how it's acceptable or appropriate to just wander through life without any regard for anyone. I mean, really. That's just rude. And in this situation in particular, it sort of makes me wonder if he ever really cared at all...

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret. -Ambrose Bierce

What point are you at when one fight literally sends you over the edge? I've never fully understood the all or nothing component. You know, where one day everything is perfect and it's all daisies and love making, and then the next day it's all changed. The flowers have wilted, the life is gone, and he won't even look at you, much less show you any sort of affection. I don't understand because there had to be something that brought you together in the first place. Now she's not even worthy of an explanation for your irrational outburst or a properly simulated break-up? It doesn't make sense!

You don't get to just walk away from your mess. You don't earn the right to throw up some deuces and get out of dodge just because you're a spoiled, colossal man child. You don't get to go on with your perfect life and then ask all her friends about her because you're too chicken shit to inquire for yourself and face your problems. You don't get to make a clean break and start over after you so royally destroyed someone else's life.

You just fucking don't.

Moral of the Crazy: I don't want to understand what kind of fiery anger begets a permanent silence. Maybe it's just that I like to live in a little fantasy world where arguments are gentlemanly and all the bars are like the Copa Cabana. (Or, what was the name of the club that Ricky Ricardo performed at...?) Perhaps I so passionately crave the answers, an explanation for the madness, a reason for ending something that was once so monumental inside my little, black heart.

I believe in sense and reason, even when I am beaten down by it.

The truth is that it never gets any easier. You just get better at it. Closure is something that you don't necessarily want but rather need. And things don't always work out. But everyone deserves an explanation, no matter how angry.

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean. -Maya Angelou