third year priya desai

I. I cried every single day until I was about eight years old. I wish this was an exaggeration, but it isn’t. I wasn’t loud about it, nor seeking attention—I knew to take myself to a quiet corner, to go up to my own room, and to process my emotions. I remember sitting there in those first few years of elementary school wondering if this behavior was just a necessity of my life. If nothing else, it was inconvenient; it happened at the most awkward of times, and most days, my family was both concerned and annoyed by me, but I didn’t know how to be any different! Until one day, when the crying stopped. I don’t remember this at all, this first day I spent without tears, but I know there had to have been one day that marked this shift in my life. Nor do I have any idea what prompted this, but something changed, and I was eternally grateful.

II. Lately, the floodgates have opened again. I cry more days than I don’t, and I still try to keep it to myself, although my roommates are kind enough to let me sob on the grey couch in our living room if I need to. I would like to emphasize that crying is not reserved for only sadness, although that’s been the spark these past few days. No, I cry whenever I feel an excess of any emotion: tenderness, exhaustion, rage. In fact, years of practice have empowered me with the saddest hidden talent ever: I constantly find myself on the verge of tears around others, and they never even notice! It feels like a tragic superpower, or maybe a magic trick. If we’re friends, it feels more likely than not that I’ve secretly cried in front of you. Anyways, I digress. I cried every day for the first fifteen days of 2021, and then I took a little break. I cried for four hours straight one day at the beginning of February. Last night, I cried until my roommate brought me Taco Bell home. I’ve been taking myself through emotional workouts, day after day, and I’ve been starting to wonder if this feeling will last forever.

III. It’s finally starting to warm up outside, and it reminds me of how in the midst of winter, it feels impossible to imagine a warm summer day. Or how when you have a stuffy nose, and you start to feel like you will never be able to breathe properly again. How conflict can feel earth-shattering, even in a friendship that has already stood the test of time. How sometimes you cry every day for years, until you don’t. Is that relatable to anyone else?

IV. I find myself with tunnel vision in these moments of despair. My brain loves the comfort of black and white thinking, this dichotomy of either/or. Either today is a happy day, or it’s a sad one. Either I am a good person, or I am irredeemably bad. These days, I’m doing my best to practice living in the grey areas of life, no matter how unfamiliar it feels. These days, I try to remind myself: Sometimes it just has to feel this way until it doesn’t.

cry your heart out