Real World

Sometimes I don’t know why, but I find myself desperate to cry. To let things out, to allow myself to feel. To see if these things are indeed real. Because it seems to me that I’ve taught myself not to cry, but for now I’ll try.

As past laughter echoes in my mind, and things like being made fun of aren’t struggles that are solely mine, I want to find that line, the one that allows a person to cry without facing judgment. Without facing torment.

I feel the scars from when I was younger, just a teenager, crying from my open wounds. And for now this pain of mine will be held within me. I remember the times that I tried not to cry and failed, but now I’m seeing things I’ve never seen before. I’m seeing these things that the real world has taught me; not the world of teenagers who are in the ‘popular group’ with the ringleader who pretends to be your friend and then stabs you behind your back.

No, this is the real world. In the real world, people cry. In the real world, people die. In the real world we don’t laugh at each other for the tears that leave our eyes and even though I might not be educated much on a formal level, I have an education of life experience that those my age rarely are allowed to see. And even though these things within me that bring this real world experience hurt, I will never let go of them because they are part of me, now and forever.

The physical heart that I was born with, facing life and death every day. The lungs that were underdeveloped when I was born are frayed. The kidneys that don’t work as well as they could, and the liver that works less than it should. The body that is pulled together by the strings of God and faith alike, I will never be able to thank Him enough for my life.

Because of these things that doctors have told me I should not be alive. These things that diagnose me to die. These are the things that the real world brings me, the things that help me to know what it’s like to have depth and reality to your character, not just your Instagram profile or your pretenders who you act with alike.

I never understood the boom of social media, but perhaps that’s because I live in a world where things take more precedence than an online persona. Still, I can find myself caught up within its grasp, but sometimes it’s all to easy to crawl out of its depths. All I need to do is not care what it thinks – or what others think – and it has no hold on me. The person that I want to be can simply be. The person that is simply me.

So as this laughter that rings in my head from so many years ago as tears fell, I won’t allow them to tell me how to live my life. Because, even though we may be different, I don’t look down on them as they looked down on me. It is simple character that everyone can see. And in the real world these things don’t matter much.

For me these little miracles, my heart they will always touch.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s