I wanna blame it on the weather. I wanna blame it on the medicine. I wanna blame it on someone. I know the answers to these thoughts are that perhaps having someone to blame it all on might just make the whole situation even worse than it already is.

I woke up that morning thinking that maybe I should stay home today too. Was it a premonition that I should have listened to? Only time would tell. The scary feeling of watching your hands shake, and feeling the tears you so desparately want to go away forming in your eyes hurt worse than the pain you really feel pounding out uncomprehensible words from your heart. I doubt the feeling I had at that moment will ever return, but I do know that I simply wouldn't want to relive it no matter the chance of seeing it again.

I remember vividly the feeling of my head lolling back and forth with the sound of her words. I remember thinking, No, I can't cry here, not now. I so much wanted to get rid of the sick feeling I had in my gut. I wanted to be left alone somewhere where I could cry. I needed to cry, just not here. The overwhelming pain I felt was coming from another source of addiction to some drug that was supposed to be healing me. It was there to aid me from digressing into extreme hurt. I had taken it only a few days, and certainly wasn't expecting to feel a pain in my forehead that wouldn't go away, or an over zealous emotion I had popping out in the middle of class. How could I be bawling here in the middle of over 20 people? This wasn't natural. I knew I just wanted somebody to truly understand, but it seemed not to be that way. I didn't wanna pass up the poem in which I had done nothing but trace the words to keep myself from collapsing right there. I was sobbing at this point. I couldn't even stop myself. I wasn't even enjoying this cry that I had needed for so long to enjoy. I was hurt by it. I felt the wet liquid running down my face and the palms of my hands. I tasted the salty and greasiness of them on my lips and my tongue.

There it was the loud noise I hadn't been expecting to send me off to a class I wasn't sure I could handle being in at that point. I walked to the bathroom with a direct stride hoping no one would see the stains of depression and sadness and dire desperation on my face. I went inside the bathroom and closed the door.... Here was my chance to really cry. To really let out what I felt. I had the door locked behind me and I felt the assurance of knowing that I wouldn't have my space invaded, or at least not for a moment.