Tears in the Dark

I don't think it's weird to cry alone in the darkness of your room. I don't think it's weird at all. I did it. Last night in fact. And I'll say one thing, sometimes living this life requires a few tears, even if the only person present to wipe those tears away is you. 

Last night I cried until I exhausted myself. I felt lonely and tired and sick of being lonely and tired even though I had just enjoyed a wonderful day with a good friend. I felt lonely because that wonderful day couldn't last forever. I felt tired because the loneliness is not a new thing. Now, this kind of lonely isn't the result of having no friends or family. I'm lucky enough to have befriended and been born alongside a group of really amazing, talented, kind-hearted, beautiful people. I felt lonely because...well just because. 

No. That isn't good enough. 

I felt lonely because even though I'm smiling and laughing and having a great time, the night always leaves me with just my thoughts for company.  

And my thoughts suck. 

Especially when it turns to the general direction my life has taken and the offerings I, as an adult human being, is able to give the world. My thoughts can be downright cruel. Even a a bit exaggerating but that doesn't stop it from rattling away. And I felt a loneliness settle within me when I realized there is no one to talk to about this... No one who would gladly listen for free at least. And so here I am in my room, with my shitty, mean-spirited thoughts for company. And I'm looking at my vision boards and the notes I wrote in the time of yesteryear and I feel tragically unfulfilled and old and pretty useless. And I haven't washed the makeup off my face yet and it's past 11 at night and I kinda wanna write a really pathetic status on Facebook but honestly what good would that do so I put away my hopefulness from yesteryear and I drag my sobbing body to the light switch, cut it off and collapse on my bed. My tears were multifaceted, with no real purpose except to engage in the act of releasing themselves. I let them go. 

And I cry for a bit, relishing in all that overwhelms me; feeling incredibly sorry for myself. And then, eventually my tears stop. I'm left in the darkness with eyes wide open and only my breath to guide me. I'm waiting for something to happen, for a ray of moonlight to touch my face like God's own ever-loving presence. 

I turn to the window. The moon is out. It is only concerned with its own haunting glow. But I look at it and I feel better. I wipe my tear-crusted face. I sit up. There is no sound in the darkness save for my own breathing. My own steady breathing. The world hasn't ended. My sobs haven't brought about Armageddon. 

 I don't feel great. But I don't feel as bad as I did when I originally started crying. So I just sit there. Alone. A little lonely. And I get up, wash my face, brush my teeth and head for bed.   

It's past 1 in the morning. My sleep is deep and dreamless.