My Story

All My Tears

If I was hurting, would you see?

If my smile was fake, could you see right through?

If I was longing to be loved, or even to be seen, would you hear my silent plea?

If I were to fall, should you, could you, would somebody please catch me?

Because hurting like this just doesn't feel right. This pain inside makes my chest feel tight. My breath comes short as I cry at night. These tears soak my pillow as I wonder why...

Why men old enough to be my father look at me as their potential bride, while men my age are not even looking at my heart that's inside, and boys far too young are content playing games, using hearts for tokens, binding souls with chains,

of regret
And fear.
Of hopelessness
And doubt.
With lies of "Who could love you?"
That block the way out.

Even ladies see my size, look to my hips and thighs, at my hands and teeth, at my hair and face, like a mare in a stall, to breed till she falls.

"You look so skinny, but with just the right curves! You could have any man you want; yes, any in the world!"

But as my hands hang empty, with a worn smile on my face, they look in my eyes and ask, "Why don't you have a man in your warm embrace?"

"There must be something wrong with you!"

Or maybe they're too blind to see, that I've been here all along, waiting patiently.

But the hours turn to days, and the weeks turn into years, and still no one is close enough to try to dry these tears.

Tears that show the fear and doubt that I try my hardest not to let out.

Because who wants a crier, who sheds buckets of tears? A woman of compassion, who shows love to all. A woman of grace, but not one who's scared to fall. Who wants a woman like this?

No one,
No one at all.

Maybe I'm too picky, or maybe I'm too plain.
Maybe all they can see and what is the truth are not one in the same.

Because short or tall
Skinny or fat
Being single can hurt
You can be sure of that.

There are good things about being single, yes, I know it's true.
But when you need a hug at night and the only thing you can do,
Is hug a teddy bear and hold him tight
And repeat to yourself that one day, some day, it'll be alright.
When the tears keep flowing
And there's just no end,
And even sleep becomes a very elusive friend.

You do what you must, and so will I.
I wipe the salt tears from my own puffy eyes.
I tilt my chin up, as regal as can be.
I remind myself I'm still single
Because not everybody gets to marry the daughter of The King.

I am His daughter, His chosen, His own. His love for me goes deeper than any spouse has ever known.

Because I'm His favorite and He loves me the best,
Anyone who wants to marry me must pass His crucial test.
Just like any good father, He wants to know that His daughter is well looked after, body and soul.
Is love being shown in a way that can be seen?
Acts of service,
Time spent with me,
Physical touch,
Giving of gifts,
Words that build and encourage.
Does he know me well enough to know which will be best received, that will mean the most to me?

But for now, 'til he comes, I'll put aside all my fears,
For even if I have to wait until I reach Heaven,
I know that Someone will dry all my tears,
With the gentlest of hands and no anger in sight,
That is the hope I can cling to all through the night.