In all the 365 days of the year, I’ll bet you that there will be some less merry days.
Days when you are not you and people are not people.
Days when your insecurities and fears are expanded far more than your confidence and pride.
Days when you’d rather just crawl under a rock and cohabit with crabs so that maybe you’ll learn how to have a thick skin:
Days when you want to initiate a campaign for people to give up on you altogether. You want to beg and grovel and pitch intelligently to people, for them to lose their trust in you.
Days when nothing feels worth it.
Days when there’s no real difference between night and day because there’s a storm in you heart anyway.
Days when you want to explain yourself but you don’t know what exactly to say.
On days like this, you must remember, that the strength of sorrow lies in the amount of strength with which we hold on to it. And pain stings as hard as you bite into it.
You must close your eyes and let everything fall through your fingers.
The pain may choose to leave by washing itself through rivers from your eyes. That is fine.
And the sorrow? It may choose to leave by the screams that pour out of your mouth. That, also, is fine.
As long as you learn to let go, and not hold on to less cherry moments, you will get your Merry back.