Great.
Just when I thought I had my temper under control... I remember why I try so hard to never let it get the best of me. My temper is icy cold. Rage. Cold rage. It is calculating and quiet after the first few moments of outraged screaming. After that, it's the frosty edge of a knife. No attachment. No memory of one. It scares me on some surface level, but deep inside, it's calm, cold, and furious. Violent and cold.
No wonder I always tell people I have a temper. No one believes it (sure, she yells and storms about) but the thing is, when I've truly lost my temper... you can't see it. It's invisible. You can only feel it if you're used to me being warm. If you're used to me being warm, the chill is unmistakable.
*sighs* Icy cold. So sad.
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