slip through the cracks in my walls…

 

And suddenly, it’s there, that feeling close to my belly button. Inside of me. At first, it is only a tickling, but it spreads and is engulfed with heat. With a certainty, I know, that this bubble of emotions, that is pent up inside of me, is about to burst.

It’s a well-known feeling. At least it used to be. It was well-known, when I was able to feel. The tickling behind my navel and the burning sensation behind my eyes. The heat reaches my face and I know, that only the impending tears are able to cool it off. My hands tremble, my breath is ragged. I squeeze my eyes shut. I am not here. I open my eyes again and the tears start to flow. For the first time in a long while, I cry and I grieve. I am not sure, if it is the loss of a loved one, or the loss of my family, that keeps distancing itself from me, as if I weren’t a part of it anymore.

How many times did I cry lately for a song or a movie? It never feels like this. This is real. Close to my heart. Something that hits home and hurts with every new blow. Something that reminds me vaguely of times, when it was easier to cry and feel.

 

Vulnerable and emotional. These are two words, two different people used to describe me. I felt offended. I admit it. I never saw myself like that. I am strong. Unfazed. A people-pleaser. I was starving for affection and love. Still am, if I am perfectly honest. But emotional and vulnerable, that is a side of me only very few people get to know. Close friends. Real friends. People I trust.

These two people, who used the words to describe me, are people, who didn’t tear down my walls. I didn’t ask them in and yet, they found their way through small cracks in those walls and slipped through. Suddenly, they are there. With me. Behind my protective wall. They see through me easily. Uncover me easily. Accept me easily, without me needing to pretend or keep masks in place.

 

Amazing. That is another word that was used to describe me recently. Saying it myself, makes me sound conceited. It’s a strong word. One that makes me blush. One that makes me proud.

 

There are so many words to describe me. So many views. So many layers. So many facets I can show or hide. But only a handful of people, who can find the cracks in the walls and take my hand. Only a handful of people I turn to, when I feel the emotional bubble inside of me about to burst. Only a handful of people, who know about nightmares and situations, that make me cry.

 

A handful of friends who understand.

 

And all that I need to be, is being me.