The stigma that sensitive people are weak needs to diminish.
Just because she feels things down to her bones does not mean she is weak.
She carries everything. Her feelings, other people’s feelings, the world around her as she takes it all in.

* *
Sensitivity is deemed feeble.
Thick-skinned people are the brave ones, right? They have endured so much that they no longer feel anything. Snide remarks, rude comments, and stressful situations roll off their skin like water during a storm. If it’s already pouring, why worry about each droplet?

*
That is the problem, she thought to herself. Are brave people truly brave?
No.
Brave people are the true cowards. Rather than taking their experiences and feeling them, letting them seep into their bones to become the marrow which fuels their bodies, they shut them away; skeletons in a closet.
They have become numb to the baggage they carry at the expense of growing numb to everything else.

*
People around her are merely living in this world, she decided, whereas she was absorbing it.
In the spring she lays in the grass, running her fingers through each blade as if it were the Earth’s hair.
When summer nights bring a light breeze, she imagines spirits are hugging her.
In the fall when it rains, she spreads her arms wide and gazes up to the sky, knowing that each water droplet that falls is Mother Nature peppering her skin with kisses.

*
Others are too preoccupied making sure their skeletons do not peer out of the closet.
Strength, after all, is the ability to withstand vast amounts of pressure and God knows how much force those skeletons must bear.


*
In the middle of the night, her father hears her talking to someone, except there is no response. It is as if she is conversing with herself when in actuality, she is conversing with her skeletons.
After midnight when others have drifted off to sleep, hoping that their skeletons do not come to haunt them, she is wide awake, her closet door open.
She lays in bed and asks her anxiety how it’s day was, laughs at a witty comment that her depression has made about her life, and gives thanks to the insult a bully gave her in the first grade for making her the person she is today.
The things that should weigh her down, she has befriended. They come to visit so often, anyways.

* *
She wonders how someone who has mastered the art of suppressing their feelings is braver than someone who has mastered the art of acknowledging their feelings.
The strength it takes to keep the closet door shut is immense.
However, it takes an unsurpassable amount of resilience to carry the world in her heart and soul while still having the courage to open her closet without being afraid of the things that could jump out at her.

five.
five days ago you came over. we broke up two months ago and we hadn't kissed since, but then we were wrestling and you pinned me and we paused for what seemed like forever until you kissed me. we kissed like we were making up for lost time, until we went upstairs to lay in bed together. i wrapped myself around you, hand in hand and head on chest and heart, mine, in your hands. happiness flowed through my veins.
four.
four days ago, i show up at 12:30. you're drunk. you barely say hello. i help you to the couch, you fall off, i help you back onto the couch. you're covering your eyes, does the light hurt your eyes? here, drink this water. i got you a straw. drink it all up! you'll thank me tomorrow. you want to go to bed? i stop you from falling down the stairs and tuck you in. i come back ten minutes later and she's trying to crawl into bed with you, i tell her to leave. i ask if it's okay for me to get in bed with you. i have 8 inches on the wrong side of the bed, but that night, i was the big spoon, and we slept. my arm over your waist and my heart, again, in your hands. we wake up, it's valentine's day. good morning, how are you feeling? i rub your back and you bury your face in my neck. you tell me you have to work till 8. i hurry home from the mall before 8 and almost decide to visit you at work. i change my mind. you text me at 9, they made you stay late. your parents wouldn't let you go out. i cry, but it's okay. i understand.
three.
three days ago, you apologize for not treating me better and thank me for putting up with you. you promise to be better in the future. i start crying because i feel like you're not trying. we talk on the phone for three hours, all is forgiven. i spend half an hour telling you cheesy pick-up lines. we say goodnight at 1:45am.
two.
you promised me we would hang out, but it started snowing and your parents wouldnt let you. okay, but if you break another promise i'll be mad. i cry, but it's okay. goodnight, i love you too
one.
yesterday, you asked me to hang out at 1 o'clock. i want you to plan it, but i eventually give in and say lets go ice skating. you come over at 1, we watch mean girls and hold hands. then we go skating. "hey, is it okay if i go to winter formal with this girl, just as friends?" no, if you want me back you have to act like it. "okay, i'll tell her i can't go" okay.

one.
yesterday, you hung out with her until 12:30, and then drove straight from lunch with her to my house. you let something slip and i made you show me your phone. i start yelling at you. i continue yelling at you. don't touch me. i'll block your number right now, don't even worry about it.
two.
two days ago you casually told your church friends about "doing stuff" with her on valentine's day.
three.
three days ago we talked on the phone for three hours. we hang up at 1:45am, you text her at 1:47. "are you up?" yes, she's awake. "love ya" "i meant what i said. i care about you." 2:06 and you go to bed.
four.
four days ago was valentine's day. you said "i was so confused when i woke up next to her. it was so weird" you told me you worked till 8. you worked till 7, stopped by her house for two hours, went home at 9. i guess "basically dating" doesn't include on valentine's day.
five.
yesterday i made you show me your phone, and this is the conversation you had about five days ago. "why did you go over to Eva's house on friday?"  
"she was upset and i had nothing better to do."  
"why did you kiss her?"  
"i didn't, she kissed me and i just went with it."
"why were you hanging with her?"
"i don't know. trust me i would've rather been with you."

zero.
today i found out that after eight months, you told her you never loved me. i guess you really never loved me.

I fell in love with the way she looks at me,
with wondering brown eyes,
always curious to know my thoughts and deepest emotions...
I fell in love with the way she kisses me...
not leaving one single spot untouched by her lips.
I fell in love with the way she grabs on to me,
tightly against her skin... wrapping my whole body around her arms
as if the tighter she holds me the more I am hers'
I fell in love with the way our hands touch for anything and everything;
while driving around in the car, while one of us is mad at each other or the world... or both, while we make love.... while we kiss... while we just  look at each other...
I fell in love with her skin... soft to the touch, but with a strong body  I feel each time as a I grab her closer to me.
I fell in love with her mind... surprising me each time, so much knowledge, full of creativity, with so much to give to the world.
I fell in love with her drive, with her willing to always do more, to be better, to reach for the stairs...
I fell in love with her dreaming heart... with her deepest thoughts, with her beautiful soul...
I fell in love with her.

“When I looked for you in this late night sky.
The stars painted your lips.
The moon showed me your eyes.
And I told them how beautiful you are.”