Went to
sleep with a pounding heart, afraid of what I’d wake up to. Woke up to a note,
seems to be our only form of communication these days, that said everything and
nothing at all. Went to work, paid more attention to my phone and the lifelines
it brought me than the children in front of me. Made a plan.
And watched
the minutes tick by.
Went into
that movie theater, all on my own and with no shame. Lights went down.
And I cried.
Typical, of
course. Crying. My main mode of emotion it seems. One that I’d been holding
back from all day, and really, all through this.
But the
lights went down and the music came up and I cried.
Because I’m
a sucker for a song and dance, of course. Cute children, check. Nostalgic
music, check. I was a goner from the beginning. But it was more than that.
I cried for
what I did not know.
I cried
because I’ve inflicted “great hurt” and for the life of me I can’t figure out
what that is.
I cried
because of what I’ve known for months I was losing and yet today was irrevocably
lost.
I cried
because I’m so lucky and so happy and this shatters me.
I cried
because I was in a movie about finding your family and I’ve lost what, a year
ago, I viewed as part of mine.
I cried because
Annie gets to wear printed floral skinny jeans and I cannot.
I cried
because my future that I am going to achieve is so close and yet so far away.
And I’m wasting this in-between feeling sad instead of relishment.
I cried
because a girl I used to fondly refer to as Mama Bear will not look me in my
eyes—and whether or not I believe I have, she believes I have and that is her
reality.
I cried
because I still cannot figure out what I did and instead of accepting that
fact, it haunts me.
I cried
because my living situation, toxic enough for myself, is impacting my cat in a
tangibly negative manner.
I cried
because no matter what I have done, I do not deserve this treatment. That this
treatment at the hands of a supposed friend means that I will never look at
someone I love the same way again.
I cried
because the repeated assurances of those I love and trust, the people who have
proven to be in my corner, are not enough.
That more
than ever, I feel like my least favorite character from my favorite book, a
beautiful little fool who carelessly smashes and leaves it in her wake.
I cried for
the melodrama, that my life is so blessed and yet this is what I’m focusing on
this evening.
I know the
answers. And more so, I can accept that some are the wrong ones, and some are
ones I’ll never know. But I mourn the loss of what was. I mourn what is.
I wish I was
stronger. I’m not afraid to be the girl who cries in movie theaters. I’m afraid
of what comes next—rather, that nothing comes next.
This is the
way a world ends. Let’s see if I’m wise enough to read the next chapter.
