Crying yourself to sleep

You cry because of what’s upsetting you

You cry because you shouldn’t be upset

You cry because you can’t make up your mind

You’re fighting with yourself

It’s a merciless battle that can only end in someone or something dying

You cry some more

You fight for breath

You wonder why you care so much

Why you let trivial things dictate your life

You cry

You sob

Your nose runs

You drool

Not a pretty picture

But you must be pretty; there is an intense desire to make it so. You grab anything you can to mop up the mess, but the water keeps coming.

It can’t be stopped.

All you wish is that someday, somehow, you could stop caring, stop crying...

Then you wake up, and for once, what you wanted actually happened.

Your face is finally dry and so is everything else: your pillow, the tissue paper scattered around you and your heart.

You don’t care about trivial things, you really don’t care about anything; there is just this amazing sense of numb.

Your new hope is that you will never have to feel like that again. Never have to feel like nothing. Because you can’t live when you do.

It is said that “life is not measured by he number of breathes we take, but by the number of moments that take your breathe away,” so when one is numb to their surroundings, they cannot be alive, for how can one experience awe, of their heart is calloused and they have developed a leprosy of the spirit.