Eccedentesiast

It was just another Sunday and it was just another humdrum sermon/preach, but perhaps something that was said along the way struck a cord with me because...when we were told to bow our heads and pray, I started crying. It was gradual, but came with an overwhelming surge of emotions. Hiding behind my hair, my eyes pooled with tears and my face began to distort with anguish, and I quietly sobbed behind the long locks of hair. (Thank God for hair, right?)

When the person beside me asked me if I was okay, I left the hall for the washroom. In there, I stared at myself in the wide mirror that stretched all across an entire wall and told myself to suck it up. It's not a bad life, it's not even a bad day.

I couldn't reason with myself and I can't explain why now either. I just did and with bloodshot eyes and forced smiles, I got through the day as per usual. When people complimented my outfit today, I said my thank you's. When someone asked if I cried, I said I didn't and joked that I was stoned as a result of smoking pot because that's what 'eccedentesiasts' do - they hide the pain behind their smiles.

I had no utter reason to be sad when everything in my life was happening the way it should. This was the life I coveted, the life I wanted for myself. 

...but the question imploding in my heart and soul asks why do I feel so lost?