Crybaby

I’ve always been a crybaby. I am emotional, sensitive, and yeah, weak.

I cry over things that are shallow and I cry over things that cut through the skin. I cry over movies and I cry over songs. I cry over people I don’t know and I cry over the ones that matter most. I cry over happy thoughts and I cry over sad memories long past. I cry over cotton candies and I cry over a cup of coffee. I cry whenever I think or laugh or walk or run. I cry over almost everything…

Once I have heard, that those who laugh over the simplest things cry over the simplest things. The ones who are easy to make laugh are also the ones who are easy to make cry. And I guess it’s true. Because you can make me laugh by just pulling out an old joke or a weird stunt, and you can make me cry by just a word or even the lack of it.

These past few days, I’ve been crying a lot. Confusing as it is to me, I have no definite answer if you would ask me why. There are so many things running through my mind and I don’t know which of them triggers the flow of tears that run through my cheeks. Some things are beyond my control. Count my tears in. Because no matter how hard I try to divert my mind to the more important matters at hand, it’s as if my eyes have a life of their own. And no matter how hard I try to use my eyes to see the bright side of life, it is blurred with tears and there’s no way it can figure out which side of life is bright, or is there really is?

I want to stop crying. I want to stop thinking. I want to stop remembering. How could it be possible that I continue to cry, think and remember when I have stopped living? How could it be possible that while my world has stopped spinning, the world around me didn’t even notice? How could it be possible that my sorrow did not even alter someone else’s life?

One day, I will get back with my life. Maybe by that time, I’d still be a crybaby. But after this, I shall arise stronger than ever.