Some nights, I cry for two hours straight. I feel as though the weight of everything is pressing down on me and if I’m going to keep holding it up I need to let something out. Some days, I wake up with puffy eyes and I throw on a hat and go for a run and listen to the sound of myself breathing. I come home and put on great music and allow myself to feel like I’ve settled last nights problems for a moment or two. I read a long list of quotes and I imagine my life through the lens that they provide and things begin to feel a bit smaller, a bit more manageable.
Sometimes, I feel like I am just out of line. As though I’m clapping off beat, as though my foot steps don’t match up with everybody else around me, and I get scared that I have created a habit of leaving for better things, but leaving in the middle of everything else. I get scared that while there is nothing wrong with walking at a different pace, I might get tired of feeling like I am walking alone.