A combination of alcohol and incredible, soul-flattening misery has given me a malign superstrength. Every other expression of anger in my life, I realize, always came restrained with concerns about how it made me look, or how it affected the other person, or if I could get fired. Consequences, basically. I don’t care! is often said but rarely fully meant. But I don’t. I have nothing left to protect or worry about in attacking Ed over Susie. From where I’m standing, I’ve already lost everything. I’m the origins story of a dangerous comic-book villain.
