(no subject)
To certain people I like to act as if I'm impervious to pain.
Like I'm superwoman and nothing can hurt me.
I remember standing among my family at my grandpa's funeral in the back chapel before the ceremony.
I remember the pastor sharing a story about him and looking around all my cousins, uncles and aunts were crying, my mother seemed somewhere else in her mind. Every person in that room had tears flowing and the tissues were passing but me. I stood there. Stone cold. Chanting in my head, "don't you cry, don't you even start. You have to be the strong one, you have to make them laugh."
So I didn't cry. The whole day. Its was like I was trying to win some pointless bet with myself. Not to cry.
To deny everything I was feeling and just ignore it.
I did slip once, I went into the stall of the ladies room and the sniffles started. I plopped down on the seat and let myself cry out one little tear. But I quickly made my way to the mirror, fanned myself, dusted some fresh powder across my cheeks and put on that fake face.
You see, I had to be the strong one.
There are a lot of you in my life who have seen me cry. I have a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve.
Sometimes I'm ashamed of that, sometimes I'm not.
But my family never sees me cry.
Because I have to be the glue that holds us all together. I have to be the one to make them laugh.
I have to never show them what I'm really thinking and feeling.
Lately I've been doing really well. I get up, I find things to do. I go out.
I try to laugh a lot.
But then life finds a way to remind you of what you should be dealing with.
It started with an episode of my favorite show. The character was professing his love to the girl of his dreams and he said something. Something really simple.
"I love you more than anything in the entire world."
And I lost it.
Because I did. I loved him more than anything in the whole world. I really did. Things weren't perfect, far from it. He wasn't. I wasn't. But that never changed the fact that I did love him more than anything in the entire world.
And that's the thing. I've been trying really hard these past couple of weeks to play it off like I didn't. Like it was no big deal, that life happens, people move on, love is lost. I try to tell myself what a jerk he could be, how much I hated the anger, how I hated always being the blame. How I knew all this was going on but I opted to believe in him instead. I try to find any excuse to hate, be mad, to just not think about the fact that it still hurts.
I tried to tell someone that once. Sometimes its just easier to be angry than to be sad.
But in that moment, hearing those words, no matter what anger I felt, no matter what blame I wanted to force on him, what excuse I could find to hate him it didn't change one simple fact.
I did love him more than anything in the entire world.
Where others saw anger, I saw passion. Where there was rebellion, I saw outspokenness. To me he was one of a kind, heartfelt, interesting. I loved his vision for things, love for his friends, his sense of adventure, the way I knew he'd never do things the "normal" way. I loved that I saw a future.
And that's the truth.
No hiding. No excuse. No pretending to cry for other reasons, or because he was a jerk or because he shattered my heart into a million tiny sharp fragments or the way he couldn't have even been honest.
No more being impervious to pain because the truth is, I cried this time because I loved him and I can't pretend or deny I didn't.
Like I'm superwoman and nothing can hurt me.
I remember standing among my family at my grandpa's funeral in the back chapel before the ceremony.
I remember the pastor sharing a story about him and looking around all my cousins, uncles and aunts were crying, my mother seemed somewhere else in her mind. Every person in that room had tears flowing and the tissues were passing but me. I stood there. Stone cold. Chanting in my head, "don't you cry, don't you even start. You have to be the strong one, you have to make them laugh."
So I didn't cry. The whole day. Its was like I was trying to win some pointless bet with myself. Not to cry.
To deny everything I was feeling and just ignore it.
I did slip once, I went into the stall of the ladies room and the sniffles started. I plopped down on the seat and let myself cry out one little tear. But I quickly made my way to the mirror, fanned myself, dusted some fresh powder across my cheeks and put on that fake face.
You see, I had to be the strong one.
There are a lot of you in my life who have seen me cry. I have a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve.
Sometimes I'm ashamed of that, sometimes I'm not.
But my family never sees me cry.
Because I have to be the glue that holds us all together. I have to be the one to make them laugh.
I have to never show them what I'm really thinking and feeling.
Lately I've been doing really well. I get up, I find things to do. I go out.
I try to laugh a lot.
But then life finds a way to remind you of what you should be dealing with.
It started with an episode of my favorite show. The character was professing his love to the girl of his dreams and he said something. Something really simple.
"I love you more than anything in the entire world."
And I lost it.
Because I did. I loved him more than anything in the whole world. I really did. Things weren't perfect, far from it. He wasn't. I wasn't. But that never changed the fact that I did love him more than anything in the entire world.
And that's the thing. I've been trying really hard these past couple of weeks to play it off like I didn't. Like it was no big deal, that life happens, people move on, love is lost. I try to tell myself what a jerk he could be, how much I hated the anger, how I hated always being the blame. How I knew all this was going on but I opted to believe in him instead. I try to find any excuse to hate, be mad, to just not think about the fact that it still hurts.
I tried to tell someone that once. Sometimes its just easier to be angry than to be sad.
But in that moment, hearing those words, no matter what anger I felt, no matter what blame I wanted to force on him, what excuse I could find to hate him it didn't change one simple fact.
I did love him more than anything in the entire world.
Where others saw anger, I saw passion. Where there was rebellion, I saw outspokenness. To me he was one of a kind, heartfelt, interesting. I loved his vision for things, love for his friends, his sense of adventure, the way I knew he'd never do things the "normal" way. I loved that I saw a future.
And that's the truth.
No hiding. No excuse. No pretending to cry for other reasons, or because he was a jerk or because he shattered my heart into a million tiny sharp fragments or the way he couldn't have even been honest.
No more being impervious to pain because the truth is, I cried this time because I loved him and I can't pretend or deny I didn't.