I hesitate to share this one. I feel like I should only disclose things that are neutral, not things that are angry or uncomfortable. But I figure you, my dear reader, will have had angry or uncomfortable moments and maybe even slammed some doors. You are welcome to tell me about them.
1. I slammed the door so he would know I was angry. But that was all I wanted, was for him to know. Or was it? What did I want him to get from that realization? Guilt? Contrition?
2. I slammed the door. I hesitated before doing it, for just a fraction of a second, because slamming doors isn’t productive. It’s like a gateway drug to domestic-space destruction.
3. I got angry. I couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t finish things, because he had my car. I hadn’t had to negotiate transportation while he was away at school. Then he came back to me for comfort in a way I hadn’t expected. Now I was resenting this anticipated consequence of his return. He had to go to work. I didn’t want to delay him but was angry that I had to put off documenting the accident for the insurance company. I got out of my car and went inside and slammed the front door.
4. I slammed the door to the house after I got out of the car angry. I slammed doors often as a kid, angry and retrenching. And more than once I got out of a car in traffic while stopped at a light because I was so agitated by the feeling in the car between me and my mother that I couldn’t stand to stay in the same space.
5. I slammed the door after I got out of the car and then I slammed the door after I got into the house.
6. The door slammed behind me because I swung it hard. I don’t usually slam the door. If I swing it, it’s gently so the door barely lodges against the jam.
7. I did it first, slammed the car door, then the front door. He came in and I yelled and he yelled then slammed my office door, slammed the front door, an asymmetry of slams.