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Tissue is a sad man's best friend.
My heart ran a marathon today.
It walked, slowly.
It skipped, heartily.
It hopped, happily.
Bom, bom, bom…
Can you feel your heart beating in your chest?
Place your right hand over the left side of your chest.
Do you feel your heart resting snugly, beating with a casual, carefree pace?
Stay that way, dear heart.
I beg you to.
But my heart didn’t listen.
It chose to take a life of its own.
Something was creeping up behind it; it was cornered by the walls of fear, obscurity, The Great Unknown.
Trapped, claustrophobic.
It panicked.
It took its last hop.
As both its feet touched the ground, it imagined a gun being fired at the corner of its ear.
Bang.
The Race was on.
It pushed off the ground, hard.
It broke into a sprint.
It pumped with ferocity like never before.
Was the finishing line coming into view?
It seemed like an eternity.
An endless dash.
My heart crossed the finish line, albeit a harsh finish.
I held the slip of paper in my hand.
I was confused, lost…
My head ached.
My breath turned into spasmodic gulps.
“I can take it…” I told myself.
I didn’t break into a smile.
I held back the passion in singing the Victorian Anthem.
I refused to cheer.
What was happening to me?
Then it came.
The rage, the scepticism, the awkward feeling.
”How did you…?”
11.
”What did you…”
11.”
I got 7… wha…”
11.
I needed to get out of the dreaded, wretched hall.
I could not take the cheers, the hugs, the jumps of joy.
It made me sick.
It was constricting.
I needed to breathe; I needed some space to myself.
Consoling from others just made it worse.
When others put a hand around me or spoke to me, the floodgates just broke.
But I thank them for the concern.
Maybe it was the months of suppressed emotions bursting out, disappointment… or… was it... relief?
I was telling people that I brought extra packets of tissue for others, just in case.
Be it tears of joy… or sadness.
I ended up using all that tissue for myself.
Does a word starting with “L” pop into your mind right now?
Now this big question is swimming in my mind…
"How will I confront the trials of tomorrow?”
The uncertainty tugs and pulls at every bone in my body.
I still have to go to school tomorrow.
Lucky me.
I need…
Self-control.
I need...
my life back.
Hail Mary.