The first thing I want to do when things get better is to cry. I want to cry then the tears I cannot cry now for all I have lost, for everyone I have lost. To survive these days of misery and only hopes and Dreams guiding me I must close myself to my heart. I keep it alive with my “once upon a times.” There is such great pain in not recognizing pain, in not letting out the hurt. There is no greater pain than a pain that doesn’t hurt, because you cannot release it, you cannot get rid of it. But it is indeed a pain. I only truly cried once for loss of my sister, I only truly cried once for the loss of my trulov. I’m always missing them. I’m always misting up. I don’t cry anymore at the torturous memories of sexual harassment. I can’t. I’ve tried. But my heart cannot be locked up and let my eyes cry the release tears at the same time. There is always certain bitterness in my happy thoughts. There is always a sarcastic laugh on the side of my sadness. That’s just how I’m surviving. I have one dream left. Just one: to publish my novel. This keeps me caring. This gets me to wake up in the morning and push forward in school. However it does seem a bit pointless without my lover… my whole goal. My reason for publishing.
This is me right now. Just surviving. That’s it. Escape from bad memories. Escape from my past abuser. Then the first thing I want to do… in my new apartment… which if I save every cent of every dollar that I earn for a year… the first thing I want to do in that apartment is to lie down, release my heart, and cry. I want to cry for my sister who now parades spiritually through the next worlds. Who I hope has forgiven me for the small fight we had before… before… I want to cry for lost love. For Daniel, who did not die but instead morphed into an entirely different dream. I refused to accept this until I realized that I wasn’t his only forsaken dream. If he were truly gone I would die to join him in Celestia. But he lives, so I would not find him there, However it is not my Daniel who still breathes the atmosphere of this world. So I must live on without him. I want to cry for the horrible twist my life took two years ago. I want to cry for my grandmother. My grandfather. I want to go as far back as preschool and I want to cry for my first crush. I want to cry for a day when I was young when I got about five bruises and scratches in 2 minutes just walking around the house. I want to cry for the lost of my first dog, and the loss of the family dog after him. I want to cry for my mouse whose gender I never discovered.
Yes, when things get better I want to cry, because I want my unresolved burdens to be lifted. I want the kind of closure that can only come with letting go. Of everything. I want to start over and this starts with a good cry.