Singing in the rain

Singing in the rain

A Story by beauitifulybroken

A little look inside my head.


Singing in the rain

Is there any better feeling

Dancing all your cares away

Finding life’s true meaning

Dance until you feel the weight of the world

In your hands

Mould it into something of beauty

That accepts you for who you are

That builds people up instead of breaks them apart

That appreciates life’s language is that of your heart

Putting myself in other’s people shoes has always been a little bit easier for me. When someone tells me a story of a memory that they have it’s almost as if I’m the one who is being transported into their head. It’s as if i wake up in their body, reliving the memories as if I’m the one who experienced those things. I feel the emotion, the sensations, if it’s a bright sunny day, i see it and feel the warmth on my skin. If it takes place in the winter, I feel the snow crunch beneath my feet.  The same thing goes for the more heartbreaking things that tend to happen to us in life, if they survived a tragedy I feel everything. I store their pain away in my heart in a way to protect them from reliving and feeling those things again, and that is part of what haunts me in the shadows. Their memories become the lullabies that lull me to sleep, their demons are like the sheep i count to make it easier to drift off.

It’s almost like a slap in the face when someone tells me I don’t understand because I wasn’t the one who felt the pain or was there when it happened, because in a sense i was, through them. It’s almost like when someone tells me a story their soul is reaching out a hand to take me along the journey.

This is my journey to the lives of others. Of my own journey, through the eyes and memories of my loved ones and of my own. 

Sometimes I can’t differentiate the difference if it’s my memory or one of another. That is really the only downside, among the feelings of their demons, i can’t seem to figure out which ones are actually mine. 

I’ve blocked off a lot of my memories because of the pain they carry, each time they come to the surface it’s like I’m there again, among the chaos, the fear, the heartbreak, so i learned to cut myself off at an early age. The thing is when you cut your entire heart off from the world, you don’t get to enjoy the beauty of life either. You just feel numb, like your unable to connect, because who can you really connect with if the centre of who you are, your soul, your being is hidden in a cage. You cage yourself off to protect yourself but you end up doing more damage to your heart and body, the one thing you were thinking you were keeping safe, you were actually causing more harm to.  


Without my heart who am i really? Am i anyone or just a vessel to a empty soul?  I feel so old, but so young and naive at the same time. As if I could hold the wisdom of the world at my fingertips but I’m unable to really understand the gravity of it.

© 2020 beauitifulybroken

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Added on December 20, 2020
Last Updated on December 20, 2020



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