I do not want to be like them — so quick to flare in anger toward the blameless. I do not want to be selfish, demanding only to be understood because circumstances are hard. I have been there before, the collateral victim of those who cannot steady the storms in their own lives. I refuse to be the perpetrator, for I know the ache — the words hurled that cut deep, not meant for you. They do not know how shattered is the heart that still longs to come home — to a loving embrace, as child, as partner, not as an outlet.