I cry silently inside.
I cry so silently and so hard that my tears fill me to the brim and force themselves out in the world like little rivulets of pain.
Catching my tears in a glass would bottle the purest emotional pain that I can muster. But I do not. I wipe my eyes and try to make my glass a little wider and take away all hope of those tears’ escape.
In search of a way to relieve the turmoil inside me, I trudge. Everyday through the dirty streets of Beijing hoping, praying for a sign of normalcy, I venture forth.
I beg for one semblance of my former life. A single refuge from the deluge of emotion and stress that this period of my life has brought me.
At every corner I hope that my next turn will bring a respite from the weight I carry on my soul. And at every corner I find none. I find other people’s joy and happiness and love but none for me.
I know that my eternal life is full of joy and happiness through my Lord Jesus. But right NOW I just want someone to say…something.
With no relief in sight, I expand my bottle once again and trap my tears within me again with the knowledge that the tempest will break free.
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