Salt in the snow

I was just sitting here feeling so happy for someone. And then I started crying.

I’m lucky.

I’m so lucky, and I want to tell people that. I have a roof above my damn head. I have access to the internet. My parents have money to pay for my education. Heck, I have parents. I am attending university. I have a part-time job. I earn money. It’s unfortunate that I have physical and mental health problems. But I’m not dying. I don’t have a terminal illness or something that affects me every day.

I listen to music, and a lot of it makes me cry. Stupid songs about heartbreak that remind me of the past. Angry songs that remind me of angry times in the past. Songs about breaking up with friends and people betraying you. Songs with this kind of passion that make me feel. That make me look back on everything that hurt back in high school.

I’m lucky I can play music. I have a piano and I took piano lessons. I took dance lessons. I can dance. Other people are confined to a wheelchair and can’t even move.

I feel for those people. Why can’t they have a life like mine? It’s sad. I can’t give my talent to people. I can’t give health to people. I can’t donate blood because I’m too thin. I can’t donate my organs while I’m alive. I’ve given to charity. I’ve donated money for a good cause or helped by buying items created for fund-raising – little things, like pens, badges, keyrings. Things manufactured on a large scale, sold at an affordable price for normal people to be able to buy, knowing that their money is going to a good cause.

I can be a mean person, but I promise, that whenever I help someone in even the smallest way, it makes me feel good. It makes me smile knowing that I was able to help someone out. It makes me smile when someone is… heck, inspired by what I do. Anything. By what I write or sing or create or say.

I’ve cried out of happiness so many times. It’s a strange feeling. I used to wonder if it was actually possible to cry out of happiness. Now I can often feel that overwhelming feeling that comes with it, and some kind of warm feeling in my chest.

One of the main reasons I’ve cried out of happiness is because I realise how lucky I am to have James. Someone who accepts me for who I am, and who doesn’t judge me. We’re such different people with different interests but small things, like cooking, or going on bushwalks, are things we enjoy doing together. And he’s out of the country now, but I realise how lucky I am to still be able to talk to him online, and that he isn’t away all the time like many girls whose husbands are in the army or are away for work for long periods of time.

And then there’s Lilian. Never did I imagine that I’d have a best friend for eight or so years, and not have a single fight or blown-up argument. In the past, I had “best friends” who just drifted away, who I fell out with because they were temperamental, who didn’t keep in touch because we moved schools… and then there’s Lilian, who is still my best friend even though I’ve only seen her about four times in the past two years.

It just makes me cry. After being used and having stupid ex-boyfriends take and never give… I’m really glad I have James. I dunno, what they call them these days. Partners in crime. Now I laugh about it. I only recently learned that the phrase “partner in crime” colloquially means “significant other” or someone who is your close friend. 😆

Happy crying is good. ♥️

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