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Angry Enigma

I remember my father being angry. Even when he was still, stoic and silent. I could feel anger brewing in him, even across the house, through walls. I feared this anger. It was most confusing for me, this anger. I couldn't understand or process it. 

So, with no other choice, I internalized it. Put it away in a box, inside my head and heart. Unaware of the emotions that I encountered, I would distract myself with my imagination. It was safer that way. It was awful lonely, but at least it was safe.

Safe from the strong, stoic, silent and stern man.

The enigma - my father. 

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