The Depressing Thoughts and Feelings of Me.

Freedom of the Weight

I've had this weight on my chest for so long that I can no longer remember a time without it. I can't remember a time where I cried in front of someone, confessed my fears and hatreds and stresses to someone. I cry in privet, but that rarely relieves the beast of a weight that slows my breathing.  And I used to think that without the weight I wouldn't be able to function, that I didn't know what it was like without it, and I was scared to find out. But I did cry in front of someone. I did let all my emotions out, something I haven't done in years. And it was quite the feeling. The weight was lifted, slowly and surely, then all at once. For a few minutes I felt complete freedom, like the world was in full color, but it wasn't pushing in anymore and that it was all open to me again. Then the person had to go, and the feeling left with them. For the next few days I craved the feeling of freedom. I looked for it everywhere, but I was too scared to peruse it, I didn't have the courage to open up again, to anyone. And I struggled to remember the feeling, and in the end I failed. Only a few weeks later I have forgotten, and I have lost the passion to pursue the feeling, for I am unable to find anyone who will listen without judgement and actually understand what is going on. So here I sit, writing this, hoping someone will hear my muffled cries from inside my room. For I am too scared to show these tears.

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