Sob.
When most people say they need a good cry, it implies going home and sobbing into a pillow for…what? A half-hour?
I never say I need a good cry. And if I do need one, today it looks like it manages a time-frame of under five minutes.
My body wanted it. I shook some as I drove home, as my whole person shuddered with a need to release something inside of me. But, as always, my mind wouldn’t allow it. My mind demanded strength, demanded I keep it together, demanded I get over it.
Until I got home, closed the door, set down bags, and pretended I was going to get something from the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator door only to close it almost immediately when I couldn’t see through the hot tears dramatically welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t walk further than the living room, where I collapsed on the floor, stretched out, and let out the first sob.
But my mind still only allowed a few sobs to get through. The tears were unbearable and so stupid, worthless. What would someone say if they saw? How ugly it looked, how ridiculous I was being. Such a drama queen.
I still feel heavy, perhaps my body will win another battle later and silence my mind long enough to shed the stress it holds onto. Because my body is tired of holding it in.
Holding it all in.
How worn I feel from long hours of work, no matter how much I enjoy the job.
How it hurts to want him and him not want me, without even really knowing who I am. With years behind us and berating myself for not just getting over it, and frustration with him for not getting to know me even for the sake of friendship.
How I don’t ever want to be at home. It feels so oppressive, with all the history of things that I want to physically put behind me while they are, for the most part, emotionally behind me.
How tiring it is to play a part, rarely seeing someone look past the pulled-together exterior and compliment who I am. That being my fault, when I don’t want to be vulnerable with anyone.
My mind is still winning. It seems to have more stamina than my body, my body is quickly tiring. My mind and body need grace, and the mind is too proud to accept.
