For those readers not familiar with these driving forces, they happen when anger surfaces and no longer stays suppressed. Talk about wacko—it gives the name a new height and meaning. The scene that followed was unimaginable, but it actually happened. When Craig went out, that was his big mistake. After he left, I went to the closet, took his clothes off the hangers, piled them in the middle of the floor, cut the lights, and stuck a match to them. Then I set in the dark and watched the bonfire.
In an instant, I had a Betty Broderick moment—just like when she set her man’s clothes on fire. Or was it the Angela Bassett scene in Waiting to Exhale? Paying back her man was definitely a moment of rage. Then again, maybe it was a Crystal Mangum moment. She’s the Durham, North Carolina, mother of three who was accused of setting her man’s clothes on fire in a bathtub. In any case, each one of their actions made a clear statement: You hurt me, I’ll hurt you back! So, really, those rising hormones aren’t anything to mess with.
The fire was barely blazing when Craig returned. As he entered the room, our eyes slowly locked. He brushed by me to stomp out the fire. . . .
(At this point you may want to open your imagination for what followed—or think what
you’d say if someone torched your clothes.) Craig yelled out, “You, you . . .
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