There are a million ways to laugh. It could be from the heart, tickled by the moment’s mysterious joyful instance, you laugh like it was the first time you ever discovered how to laugh. You don’t care what it would look like to others because this is your occasion. Sometime it seems dizzying how perfect that instantaneous period could become stretching in to light years and when you finally stop and sigh there is a little pain in your abdomen, a sting that reminds you what you felt was real and it was powerful enough to leave a memento.
Sometimes it isn’t as eccentric; it passes as fast as it came but still manages to leave a spark in your heart. When later you’re alone, you remember that moment and it awards you with an unexpected grin, one you never knew you had on until your hands check if it was real or see people looking at you strange from having that on your face while still alone.
And other times, it’s just a stretching of lips, showing a spark of teeth but nothing more. The happiness does not reach your eyes and they don’t shine with unexpected fervor. It’s more painful to hold it in place than it was to create it, more exhausting until you feel your face isn’t yours anymore but a stranger’s that inhibited your body, a guest in your own skin. But they never do tell, do they? They never tell the difference because you have gotten so good at those hidden appearances, in fact, you’re too much of an expert for even yourself to tell.
But there is only one way to cry because sorrow is a shared event. Tears aren’t strangers to every face that ever was and each has bled them at one time or another. There is one way to cry for sadness is universal. And perhaps realizing this will make you fell less alone, less like you are the only person standing by a cliff, wondering if the dive would be long enough to kill you. Or perhaps it’ll sadden you, knowing in the instant sadness wiped the happiness out of your heart, a million other people all around the world are possibly having the same exact feeling. But either way, soothing or not, we are all connected by that glimmer of melancholy that harbor in all of us, only the level differs.
Sometimes it isn’t as eccentric; it passes as fast as it came but still manages to leave a spark in your heart. When later you’re alone, you remember that moment and it awards you with an unexpected grin, one you never knew you had on until your hands check if it was real or see people looking at you strange from having that on your face while still alone.
And other times, it’s just a stretching of lips, showing a spark of teeth but nothing more. The happiness does not reach your eyes and they don’t shine with unexpected fervor. It’s more painful to hold it in place than it was to create it, more exhausting until you feel your face isn’t yours anymore but a stranger’s that inhibited your body, a guest in your own skin. But they never do tell, do they? They never tell the difference because you have gotten so good at those hidden appearances, in fact, you’re too much of an expert for even yourself to tell.
But there is only one way to cry because sorrow is a shared event. Tears aren’t strangers to every face that ever was and each has bled them at one time or another. There is one way to cry for sadness is universal. And perhaps realizing this will make you fell less alone, less like you are the only person standing by a cliff, wondering if the dive would be long enough to kill you. Or perhaps it’ll sadden you, knowing in the instant sadness wiped the happiness out of your heart, a million other people all around the world are possibly having the same exact feeling. But either way, soothing or not, we are all connected by that glimmer of melancholy that harbor in all of us, only the level differs.