I'll always have my most concerned friends tell me it's OK to cry. It's OK to be sad. It's OK to be angry. It's OK to feel. It's OK because you're alive.
Well, I'm sure Tay and Aiz will be pleased (not exactly, since it's not a positive idea) that tonight is the night that I shed the tears of summer. (My parents really set me of)
I've always hated crying. I hated the beginning of a cry. The downturn, quivering of the lips. The stinging of the eyes. The tidal waves in the chest. I loathe even the thought of me crying. But I know, I know, it's good for me.
When I do cry, and I get passed the falling tears, irritating sniffling, and inconsistent breathing, and I finally find a grip on just one single thought, then the end isn't so bad. It's relieving actually. I usually space out. Think about what's next, or not think at all. Then I wipe the tears till my eyes sting dry and get a hold of my running nose. After, I just sit still. Or lay still. And my breathing continues steadier.
I usually end up glassy-eyed. And laying there, feeling relieved reminds me of being little. When I used to cry as a kid. And if it's because I'd fallen and scraped my knees, my mom would let me lay my head on her lap and she'd play with my hair until the hiccuping of my cries would stop. My granma did the same. Sometimes, they'd sing to me. Or tell me, "It's ok, it's ok.. Shhhh, it's fine" and continue calming me down. Every time I'm calming down, that's the feeling I remember. And things start to lift from my chest and it's easier to think.
Except tonight, I'm alone. Completely alone in my room.
But I think I'm alright now.
Well, I'm sure Tay and Aiz will be pleased (not exactly, since it's not a positive idea) that tonight is the night that I shed the tears of summer. (My parents really set me of)
I've always hated crying. I hated the beginning of a cry. The downturn, quivering of the lips. The stinging of the eyes. The tidal waves in the chest. I loathe even the thought of me crying. But I know, I know, it's good for me.
When I do cry, and I get passed the falling tears, irritating sniffling, and inconsistent breathing, and I finally find a grip on just one single thought, then the end isn't so bad. It's relieving actually. I usually space out. Think about what's next, or not think at all. Then I wipe the tears till my eyes sting dry and get a hold of my running nose. After, I just sit still. Or lay still. And my breathing continues steadier.
I usually end up glassy-eyed. And laying there, feeling relieved reminds me of being little. When I used to cry as a kid. And if it's because I'd fallen and scraped my knees, my mom would let me lay my head on her lap and she'd play with my hair until the hiccuping of my cries would stop. My granma did the same. Sometimes, they'd sing to me. Or tell me, "It's ok, it's ok.. Shhhh, it's fine" and continue calming me down. Every time I'm calming down, that's the feeling I remember. And things start to lift from my chest and it's easier to think.
Except tonight, I'm alone. Completely alone in my room.
But I think I'm alright now.
