Sitting at the table with head in my hands and droplets of salty water falling from my eyes as if from a leaky garden hose. Acquaintances put their arms around my shoulders and ask if I'm okay. Like any other person in this situation I say I'm fine. She turns to me to say I'm not, and I know damn well I'm not, but I will keep my emotion inside to examine further in private. I work over my emotion until it becomes as calloused as my hands and feet. I'm not the only one with these problems and my problems are not unique.
To hide an emotion takes so much devotion that after a while, you've no energy for anything else. You're stranded on the island you created with no way out. A hand here and a hand there to help pull you out but they're too weak. You try to serve as a hand for everyone else but you realize, you're too weak. You work to hard to create those callouses. You think, maybe those callouses will make work easier, but in the end, those callouses are softened. Now that they're gone, it's harder to hold the leaks in the hose.