im not a cryer...never have been. why should i pride myself on that.
should i be boastful that i possess an amazing ability to shove it all aside?
toss it into the dark closet of my mind...
i reach way in back. parents divorce. 9 years old. dont know how to feel. put it away.
sift through rack upon rack of lost friends. nothing fits anymore.
a broken heart sits next to fear. of what? rejection, getting too close to people...who knows. its dark in there.
towards the front...loss of faith...in god, in people, in my security, and in myself.
top shelf. all the cruel fat comments. sucked into a vacuum sealed bag. to make more room. i never forget that they are there.
tucking things away seems easy.
but eventually i need to switch on a light, and examine the contents...and cry.