Today I haven't the strength of mind to be collected and profound. The weekend was taxing emotionally and physically. I went camping with a bunch of friends, and we all stayed up until 4:30 in the morning playing Truth or Dare without the dares, and it turned into this huge psychoanalysis of each other and why we do the things we do, and we all fell asleep crying.

I love my friends.

Then, I got home Saturday around lunchtime and was recruited into laying sod on the hill that we've been building in our backyard. We worked until there was no daylight left to see the edges with.

I fell asleep at 12:43.

I got up Sunday morning at 11:20. Usually I get up by myself no later than 7:00, and fall back asleep, but I didn't even open an eye until 11:20. And then I couldn't move. I was sunburnt to a crisp, and my limbs just WOULD NOT work.

When I got home from church, I collapsed on my bed and took a nap, was shocked awake by a traumatizing dream, that really wouldn't have been traumatizing to anyone else, so I'm not even going to explain it, because it was so revealing. And then I had a good, long cry.

I have lots of those lately. I hate this empty feeling inside of me. I hate my gaping hole. I can handle so many other things. I can handle piles...I just cannot handle holes. It's eating me up inside, and there's nothing I can do about it.

I just want to cry all the time, because crying doesn't hurt like the ache does.

It's so crazy, all this living. All this trying to live. All of this hope, and optimism, and happiness that I have in my for everyone and everything but me. I am convinced of the inherent goodness in the world, until I turn and look at myself, and then my optimist crumples into this avout pessimist. And people rarely see that.

So much of the time, I hate that I can be such a convincing liar. I hate that for as much as I can never keep a straight face, I am, in a way, keeping one all the time. It scares me that I can hide behind this facade of a smile so easily. It's dangerous.

And that is a hard thing, this being scared of myself. This wondering what I will do next. This frantic trying to compensate for my deep aches. Feeling all this hollow, and this collapse, and in the meantime, daylighting as a pillar, and being so strong all the time for the people around me, the people who I love and care about.

I want to be independent. I want to deny so much that I need love. That I do, in fact, need a little TLC.

That behind all of my big words and smiles, there's a crying child.

God, I just want the hurt to go away. True confession: My perfect day would be to experience not living with a broken heart. I was born with one.

Will it always be like this?