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After months of dry eyes and a numb soul, it finally broke. The culmination of so many stresses finally weighed heavy enough on my chest to jumpstart my barely beating heart. Before the resuscitation, it was as if pressure was building up within, suffocating breath. Like cracks rapidly forming to spur on an avalanche, I could feel the brink approaching. With each new happening, each new stress, each new set back, the cracks formed more quickly, running eventually to the center and piercing open a cold glacier. And at the moment of the split, I gasped for air, shook, and wanted to push him away. Instead, I grabbed tighter and cried louder. Instead, I finally allowed myself to feel again. For months, I have wanted to cry, yet even at my hardest attempt, I couldn't; now, the salty tears fall in a steady, unmanageable stream. And they dont seem to want to stop.

Its not one thing or two things, or the obvious things or the not-so-obvious things. Its everything. I have been robbed of my wide-open love, my trust in anyone, and my bravery. All I want is to have it all back. I see no light at the end of my ravenous tunnel. Numbness has consumed me and perfected a fear-induced apathy. Recently, I have held even the most intimate people at length, giving the impression that I am completely emotionally detached (when maybe I am not) and unable to say I feel differently (when maybe I do). That their touch and kind words are nothing more than acts before me. Maybe worse, that their harsh words, behavior, demeanor are nothing more than acts before me.

My eyes burn tonight, as do other parts of me - my pride, my optimism, my heart, my ambition. I'm tired, so so tired. It will get better, you say? Yes, I know - I used to believe this too.

Funerals

I am no stranger to such events, and know the exhaustion that stems from them surprisingly well, even at my so-called "young age". I remember one time when I was really young someone asking me if I went to church regularly. Having never been to "mass" or "service" with my family on a normal Sunday, I thought, I go to funerals regularly, does that count? Through the multiple episodes of sadness, I did come to find one common thread, though: no matter who, what or how, Death always teaches us at least one new thing about Life.