it’s been awhile since i cried myself awake. looks to me to about a year or so. but tonight i cried. i haven’t cried like this in a good long time. sure i’ve done my standard crying when reading the newspaper, watching movies, reading books. but i can’t remember the last time i cried such hot cleansing sobs. it’s probably a good thing. so much pent up ugly, it needed to get out. tonight i hung up the phone and turned my head into my pillow and sobbed. hot, fat tears, that left my heart racing and me gasping for air.
i cried for my loneliness, my stressed-outedness, my not matteringness. i cried because i don’t have anyone in my life who actually wants to see me, to be with me. i cried because i’m unsure and feel unloved. i cried because i thought i was more important than i actually am. i just cried because it’s tuesday night and i need to cry.
i write in the past tense as though the tears have stopped. as though i was able to stop, but i haven’t stopped. even now, as i sit here naked and shivering trying to get the rest of the ugly out, the tear roll down my face onto my chest.
i’m crying for me. i’m indulging myself in the sadness, because i’ve been denying it too much lately. i’m crying for the sad, lonely girl that i am right now. and if i thought it would help, i’d pat my own head, hug my own body and tell me it was gonna be alright. but i can’t even convince myself of that right now.