I hate crying. I didn't always, it's something that's happened over the last few years. I remember vividly the transition from sadness to anger when my parents split up; I think it was around that time that I realized how much easier it was to get mad rather than to be sad. Since then, I've created a cocoon, a soft layer of protection that doesn't require any energy on my part in order to be sustained. It just is. If softens the blow when someone disappoints me or when things don't go quite the way I expected them to. The numbness, the lack of feeling, is what's left over when you refuse to be hurt anymore. The trade-off, of course, is that the numbness is impermeable to all feelings... including happiness and joy. So while I'm safe from the hurt, I'm missing out on the possibility of something good. And I know all of this. I'm very aware of the fact that while I'm gaining one thing, I'm losing another. I haven't yet decided if I'm better off with my bubble of protection, or if it's time to remove a layer and force myself to feel SOMETHING. Even if it hurts. Even if it's terrible.