Got Nowhere Else to Go.

I’ve spent half of my life trapped—trapped inside a body that refuses to show the deepest feelings that are innate in me.  I avoid letting others see how I feel for fear of how they will react.  But mostly it’s to not show weakness.

The other half of my life let others see my capability of crying—the saddest way of dealing with pain.  I choose whether or not to show that weakness.  I choose it based on who the people around me are at the time. I’ve shed thousands of tears in school and at home.  The only difference is at school I seldom care about showing the weakness.  At home, where more tears have streaked my face, I try to hide from the eyes of my family.

Most of the time crying releases my anguish—at least for a while.  I will feel better after a session of it.  But there have been a few times when one powerful emotion that causes a tear will influence another, and another, and another until I am exhausted—that my eyes will look bloodshot and my face will be a mixture of the hurt being released and a restraint to go on crying.