POV

10.21.24

The sky weeps, pouring its heart out over the earth.

Rain slashes down relentlessly, as if every unshed tear has been saved for this moment.

I walk under it, head bowed, soaked from head to toe.

I have no umbrella, and it doesn’t matter. 

I hug my bag tight against my chest, clutching it as if it could shield me from the world.

Cold droplets trickle down my face, but I can’t tell if it’s the rain or my tears.

The wind bites through my wet clothes, but I feel nothing. 

Time slips away from me, lost somewhere in the rhythm of the falling rain.

I walk, and the hours blur.

I let my feet move without purpose, just going wherever they want.

I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be free from this weight. 

People pass by, glancing at me, some with curiosity, others with pity.

But I don’t care.

They don't know what’s going on inside me, and I have no energy left to pretend that I care either. 

It’s been a week since that phone call—nine long days since everything inside me cracked open again.

I’ve tried so hard to bury it, but the harder I push it away, the more it floods back, dragging me under. 

Every moment from that call plays on repeat in my mind, like a record I can't stop.

I thought I was done with this kind of pain.

I thought I had buried the memories so deep that they’d never resurface.

But here they are, alive and breathing, like old ghosts refusing to rest. 

I hate how everything makes sense now—how the wounds I tried to forget are reopening, sharper than before.

I can feel it all again.

The heartbreak.

The emptiness.

The weight of every goodbye he said. 

When that call ended, I went home, hoping that maybe—just maybe—things would feel lighter.

I hoped that the familiar comfort of our home would chase away the sadness gnawing at me. 

I wanted to talk to Mama, to pour everything out like I always did.

In a world where no one seems to understand me, she’s the only one who truly does.

She’s always been my safe place, my living diary. 

But that day, I couldn’t do it.

I lied.

I smiled through the ache in my chest.

I laughed when my heart was breaking.

And it hurt even more to realize that I was pretending—pretending even in front of the one person who knows me best. 

I cracked jokes with my cousins, with friends, with my churchmates, plastering a grin on my face that didn’t belong to me.

Every laugh felt hollow, echoing painfully inside the emptiness I carried. 

And now that I’m back in class, surrounded by people, it feels worse.

Why do I keep faking it?

Why am I afraid to be honest?

Why am I still running from myself? 

I’ve read countless books during the break, flipping through pages as if answers might be hiding between the lines.

I searched for wisdom—some clue about what’s happening to me.

But every story, every passage, only left me more lost. 

It’s like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

No matter how hard I search, I can’t seem to fit things together. 

And so, I ask the only one who might know.

Why, Lord?

Why does it hurt so much?

Why does the past I buried keep coming back?

Why do I feel like I’m drowning in memories that should’ve faded by now? 

I haven’t slept in days.

Every night, I lie awake, the silence filled with the echoes of that call.

I hear every word again and again, feel every emotion like a wave crashing over me. 

I’ve tried everything—distractions, books, even music—to silence the storm in my mind.

But nothing works.

The pain sticks to me like second skin, impossible to peel away. 

Today, I made a choice.

No more pretending.

No more hiding behind fake smiles. 

I don’t care if people call me dramatic or say I’m being too emotional.

I just want to be real, even if being real means being vulnerable. 

I need to stop running from the sadness and finally face it head-on.

I’ll let it wash over me, just like the rain falling now.

Maybe if I allow myself to feel everything, it’ll eventually leave me in peace. 

I know healing won’t come overnight.

It may take days, months, or even years. But for the first time, I just want to stop lying to myself. 

I want to stop pretending that I’m okay when I’m not.

I want to stop forcing a smile that feels like a burden.

I want to be real, even if it means breaking. 

I know I can’t do this alone. Lord, I need You now more than ever. 

Please help me.

I don’t know how to carry this weight on my own.

Cleanse my heart, clear my mind, and take away the bitterness that’s creeping in. 

I know I’ve made mistakes.

I’ve sinned.

I’ve hurt myself and others along the way.

Please forgive me, Lord, and help me to start over. 

I’ll keep walking through this storm, no matter how long it takes. I’ll keep trusting, even when the path feels impossible to see. 

I know the sun will rise again someday, even if right now, all I can see is rain. 

For now, I let the storm carry me.

I let the rain soak my skin, hoping it will wash some of my sorrow away. 

Lord, stay with me.

Don’t let me go.

Because even though I feel lost, I know that if You’re with me, I’ll find my way home.