Miami 3 is on her way. Patience.
As I've stated before, I don't cry. Not really. As a child, yes, all the time. Near daily at some points. I always loathed it, as far back as I can remember. I'm not entirely sure why, perhaps some gender vision that was muddled to think that it was shameful, but I've always hidden it. When I have cried, it's typically been done once year by an event that is unforgivable. Things will continue to evolve after it, but the person or event that caused it will never really be healed. We can be surrounded by such beauty but it will never be Eden. When I have cried, it's been like shoving a waterfall through a sieve. If you're standing underneath the sieve all you see are little droplets falling down; you're completely unaware of the force beating from the other side. There are as many ways to cry as there are to laugh, though I think generally involve either sobbing or silent agony. I've never sobbed. Never had the falls break the sieve and vocalized despair. Not once. I have no clue what it feels like, though I can imagine from watching enough Baz Lurmann films.
But there's one coming.
It's everything about this past year. The move, the aimless wandering around the end of my degree, the emotion surrounding the Recital, the tectonic shifts in friendships, the barren womb of the countless relationships I didn't have this year or perhaps just the one...It's coming. I'm experiencing it almost every day now, watching an episode of sappy television or listening to a song that ends me. Sometimes I catch it and taper back. Other times, I think that I'm just going to let it out but then quickly retract the reigns, the rebellion and its failure occurring within a split second.
I've been told before that for me to cry is one of the worst things possible. Granted, this was said by a dear friend; I'm not really sure why, but I almost understand it. It's not an ego thing or thinking that I'm better than an other, but it seems as though something would break if it would happen or I just wouldn't be able to stop. I know what this sounds like, but at times I feel as though I'm just passing through, like I don't really belong here. This isn't meant to sound grandiose, but I almost feel as though any human behaviour has simply been assigned so I can pass through unnoticed, undetected, while performing some sort of heavenly case study. A celestial creature riding transit.
I've been feeling oddly drawn to the angel Gabriel lately. Those that know me would never think that divine inspiration would be a presence in my life, and I'm not saying it has in the traditional sense, but it's almost like meeting someone for the first time and knowing them completely, knowing exactly what will make them laugh, draw them in, push them away. This was similar. I never thought anything of seraphim and always loathed the name 'Gabriel' but some time, several months ago, it just clicked into place, batteries meeting, that this was something worth drawing from. What it actually may be is not important, whether it is a calling or merely brain synapses misfiring, completely irrelevant so long as a journey is begun.
I've been almost crying a lot lately.