Cry

Image can be found here...

The pilot light on my hot water tank went out last night. The water was cold this morning. Its done this before. For whatever reason, its the one thing I cannot seem to get to work on my own. So I put out my plea for help. Then sat down to cry. A cry of epic proportions. Kurt could have fixed it. Kurt should have fixed it. In the past, Kurt did fix it. And it aches that I just can’t fix it myself. I hate – and there is no other word – the fact that I have to do this myself. Alone.

Its much like my life right now. I want to make it “better”. To feel “normal”. But I don’t even know what those words mean any more. Or how to go about finding them. Giving it time isn’t working. It seems like nothing is. Much like the hot water heater...

There’s a lot of pressure built up under my thick skin. And no way to really let it out. Yes, a few tears, a little emotion escapes from time to time. But not enough to matter. Not enough to bring lasting relief. I tell myself not to cry in public. I tell myself not to cry at work. I tell myself not to cry in front of Gavin. I tell myself not to cry, period. For three years, the constant little voice in the back of my head is telling me “Hold it together, Chrystal...”

And then the hot water heater goes.

And the water is cold.

And my thick skin is shattered.

And all it seems I can do is cry...