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I don’t know why I’m crying right now.

I began this post by sticking my tongue out at the blank white page.

Then I opened ITunes and played the Mumford and Son’s song Timshel. It ended, I replayed it, and then I started to cry. The only thought in my head was, I don’t want to have to be brave anymore.

The song is now on it’s third fourth fifth sixth seventh cycle. You are not alone in this, is the line repeating to me through the speakers. I wish this wasn’t the only place for me to seek comfort tonight.

God, I want so badly to be held. I would give just about anything to be in someone’s arms.

I’m full on sobbing now. And still Timshel plays.

I hate that I have to find my comforts in a song. I’m so tired. I’m so tired of making do with the small things I’m able to give myself. Which are rarely what I really need. Rarely what I actually want.

A song just isn’t enough. Not for me. Not tonight. And a song is all I have.

Tonight I will go to sleep crying, Timshel playing softly in my ears.