Today, I was driving and sobbing, and I had this memory of having seen this woman, she was crying while driving and she looked so much in pain that I wanted to stop her and do something for her. But I was powerless. When the memory closed, I looked around the road to see who might be witnessing my fragile moment; there was no one--Sunday traffic is light--but I stopped crying anyway.
Usually, I'm pretty good at ignoring all of the things that are wrong with me. I pretend that the me that I am is the me that must be.
But sometimes, the walls break down--just a little--and I see what I don't care to see.
(If you noticed that the title doesn't have any apparent connection to the the rest of the entry, you're quite astute.)
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