They cannot know the way it feels.
They assume you are disconnected.
That you are numb and have no feelings towards the outside world.
If only…if only I didn’t feel so much.
If only I was more disconnected.
If only at times I was numb rather then just blocking it out.
Instead I deal with words that slice my soul to shreds. That send my mind reeling so fast I cannot scramble up the muddy slope fast enough to withstand it.
Instead I try and retreat into myself, to regroup. To hold off the tears, to lessen the pressure, to avoid another night of pain.
But it isn’t in my nature to run. However ironic it may be that a broken person stands against a wave. That they can let the wave wash over them again and again, still managing to survive.
This is not because I cannot face these issues. It’s because I understand. I understand that those who send the wave are often themselves broken in some way.
That they have not yet learned how to handle this aspect of themselves. They have not learned to let the waves of life, big or small wash over them and still stand.
To push through each fall, no matter how much you have to gasp for breath after it is over. That being broken for a time does not make you weak and it does not mean you will always be broken.
But rather to remember that waves will always come, they will always crash, and you will always be left in the bright, soothing, dawn after the tide rolls out.