i’m not mad

I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at you. That simple statement sticks in my head on repeat, punishing my brain. It floats there, whispering in my ear, tormenting me to dissect it.

I’ve said it many times. In fact, I’ve lived my life not being mad at people. It’s a mantra of respect, something I say to make peace, to deescalate a disagreement. I’ve said it when I want to build bridges. I’ve said it to show I understand. I’ve said it when I know, deep in the depths of my being, I am angry. I have resentment. I am outraged, but I choose to put it aside. I choose to process it on my own and not react in the moment because I value peace so much more.

I value the other person in any conversation, even though we may disagree, even though we may not see eye to eye on certain things. I value listening, learning, and giving others the space they need to process things just as I do. I value freedom of expression and the freedom to be whoever I want in this life. I value all these things.

But my head twists, turns, and catapults into a jumble of emotions when it thinks of what happened after she said those words on that street, sitting in her van, just observing, waiting. That same person she tried to reason with and tried to communicate she understands and values his point of view, his role, his existence, didn’t value hers.

She lost her life that day in the most horrific way possible. She lost her life after saying, “I’m not mad at you.”

It makes me think about how powerful outrage is, how destructive and violent it can be. There isn’t a scenario I can play out in my head where he wasn’t angry at her for just sitting there in the street in her van, letting other cars pass by before she made her way too. But it doesn’t make sense to me. How could someone have so much uncontrollable rage streaming from their veins, oozing from their soul, to the point they’d take the life of a human being telling them they accept them as they are?

She wasn’t mad at him. So what made him so mad at her?

I wrestle with that question. It makes my head ache, burn, and roll over. I simply can’t make peace with it.