There's very few moments in life that change the course of ourselves... I mean actually really change you. Those pivotal moments that stop you, shake you, that make you question everything you are. Those moments that take your breath way, but not the incredible "wow" moments.. I mean the heart wrenching, train sitting on your chest.. "God, just please let me breath!!!" moments.
Sometimes, when you sit really quiet.. and all that's left is the own discouraging thoughts in your head you find that you aren't as strong as everyone thinks you are. You aren't as put together, polished.
No...
Damn it. In fact you're a complete. Freaking. Mess.
I feel like these moments should be few and far between, but I'm not talking about the "I'd rather sit in my sweats all day and Pinterest my entire life into a beautiful board that makes me look crafty.. I mean the ones that break your heart so deeply that you aren't sure you'll ever be the same.
They make you so aware of everything. Every person, every crack... every wrinkle. They show you pain and intolerance. They show you tears... but not those stupid fake tears you let fall for some guy who "broke your heart" once .. I'm talking about the ones so heavy that no one could ever possibly understand that they carry the weight of the whole entire world in them.
The ones that break only when they hit the floor after falling into your eyes, across your cheek... onto your arm. The ones that fall down your nose and onto your chest and just sit there like they're waiting to be brushed away just like you are.
Normally, these tears are mine. And mine alone. Tonight however, sitting in my parents kitchen.. crying with my dad about things we cannot change I realized how desperately we were crying the same tears.
There's something life altering about your hero crying that way. I felt every tear of his rolling down my back while his broken words told me how sorry he was that he couldn't take away my pain or give me a body that wanted to just be strong... and I don't want to be a burden, not to him.
A few years ago, while I was lying in a hospital bed my dad broke down and he started yelling for me to get up.. to just get up and walk. That I had to get up and walk because if I didn't I was going to die in that bed. I remember the fear and the pain in his eyes knowing that I couldn't. That it didn't matter. That no amount of yelling at me.. or my body.. or a doctor was going to make a damn difference.. and I felt that tonight.
He apologized for not being strong enough to know how to make it better.. just tears.
I don't know what to do with the weight of the world right now.. If I could tie it all to a string and sit in a Cherry Tree I would. I'd let it dangle in the sun. And I'd fly away.
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