And then one day, I found out I could cry.
It wasn’t what I wanted, what I longed for so badly I couldn’t breathe some nights as I lay there clutching my blanket, wishing with all my heart as I stared at the black, blank ceiling. I wanted the sunshine, I wanted it inside me, to fill that airless hollow among my ribs where all my feelings had been roughly scooped out by everything we’d been through.
I didn’t want to cry, feel this wrenching pain. I wanted to laugh, and have the echo ring through my empty spaces again and again and again, never ending. But when those first tears fell and I sobbed until my stomach was sore, I realized: they are not so different, crying and laughing.
If laughter is to feel what it is to be alive, then crying is to know you are not dead – because you can feel something, after all.
~ Stacia Joy