All It Took Was Milk (Part 2)

What just happened? How… why… what… caused this drastic change – so quickly and seemingly without warning?  
 
(the signs were there; they’re always there.)  
 
A minuscule event turning Him into a Mount St Helens. A subconscious vault of negative emotions - a thick tomb built over the course of recent months - hidden away and tightly closed, it was only a matter of time, though (but WHEN?), before the fuse was lit, sending sputtering sparks, inching at a snail’s pace, up to just below His realization of the coming calamity, eventually meeting the cup-of-milk shaped dynamite and…
 
        Detonation! A rationality-shattering release of emotional contents. His Pandora’s box of misery now open.
    
          No more happiness…
          No more enjoyment…
          No more laughter…
 
No more gleam in His eyes. Gone is the light which illuminated His life and soul, and that in which He saw in others and the world. Love lost for everything… everyone. For Himself. A new vault replaces the old; one built into which this light has been repressed; pushed deep into the most far away corners of His mind and soul. Only one thing He keeps foremost and governing.  
 
          ANGER!
 
A destructive moroseness now in control. A dark mantle He now wears, taking comfort and shelter in. But like a small itch in the back of His mind, He knows this is not good. He knows He cannot live this way. He knows it must end… now.