I would prefer to be the shoulder than the broken-hearted.
I think my problem is that I don’t talk to other people about my problems. I find it easier to curl up in bed and sleep away my ill-emotions than run around pouring my guts to every heart and soul. Either that or physical therapy. Occasionally, I’m proud that I’m not parading my first world issues to the world. But at the same time, maybe not opening up about myself is a weakness in itself.
I’ve done it before.
I ranted to everyone who would listen about being wronged, being hurt. The whole disastrous event pushed me to cry and call out. But in the end, it became something I was apathetic to. It’s always like that. I talk to a handful of people when I can’t take it any longer and end up acting like it was nothing to begin with. I voice my opinions and act on my emotions, yet I keep me to myself. I always become indifferent. But, is it a farce for the world? Or for me?
That’s my problem, I refuse to have a shoulder to cry on.
My definition of weakness and strength is really warped - and for that reason, I refuse to cry.
“você pode chorar e eu sempre vou estar do seu lado,não importa as circunstâncias.”