Just Because

    This morning, I woke up with tears on my face. No nightmare. No loud noises. Just me, sobbing quietly as the sun rose. And when people ask me why, I can only say, “Just because.” But deep inside, I know it’s more than that. It’s everything I’ve buried finally spilling over.

    I was so shocked when I realized I had been crying in my sleep. It felt like my body was telling me the truth I refuse to face while I’m awake. During the day, I distract myself, pretending I’m fine. I smile, I laugh, I work. But when night comes, or when I sleep, my brain stops protecting me. It lets out everything I’ve tried to hide—my fears, my insecurities, my disappointments.

    I’ve loved myself too much in the wrong way. I protected myself by avoiding the hard truths. I lived in denial, telling myself that things will happen in time, that everything is okay. But deep down, I refused to believe the obvious: some of the things I wanted so badly didn’t happen and might never happen. I refused to accept that reality.

    And so, I keep waking up like this—crying just because. But the just because is actually years of pain, years of dreams that didn’t come true, years of pretending I’m strong when I’m really tired. I cry because I’m hunted by the things I wanted to get—my passions, my dream job, even the simple life I once dreamed of but now feels so distant.

    I refuse to believe that everything I hoped for didn’t happen, but deep inside, I know it’s true. And every time I close my eyes, it catches up with me. So, when I say, “just because,” it’s really everything I’ve been running from finally catching me, reminding me that I can’t hide forever.

- Keishan Daye Co