It’s one of those things you can’t control, when you’re just so sad an overwhelmed with the world on your shoulders that you’re leaking those feelings. The tears are falling and you can’t even stop because you’re slightly relieved, knowing that somehow those words you could not say are being expressed.

She doesn’t understand, she never did. She’s talking down to me, almost yelling but not quite. And more than anything, in that moment, I wanted her to understand what I felt. And somehow, I was given a burst of spontaneous courage and I said,

“Do not even give me that shit.”

She was beyond angry, she was fuming, but so was I. And suddenly, it wasn’t even about her anymore, it was about myself, not being able to say why I felt the way I did. The fact that the whole time, I was replaying what I would say if I had the voice inside my head. And all I could think was,

“Oh, the person I would be if I was the voice inside my head, and not me.”

She was crying too, and I wanted her to cry. I wanted her to feel what I did. It was selfish and ridiculous of me, but this is what she had caused me. She didn’t know half the story, and for her to put ridiculous words into my mouth was hurtful.

So she told me to go home, to get out and go home.

That hurt the most. 

My tears consumed me, my cries echoed throughout the emptyness of my house. I was shaking and breaking more and more with every cry that was left unheard. So I jumped into the pool, fearless. The silence under the water was the most comforting.