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Giving A New Meaning to A Bad Day

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Looking back, I don't know why I chose this moment to break down.

I mean, it's just a few wires and ear buds mixed up with each other.

I only wanted the music to block out the rest of the world. Headphones on, mind off. Just me and the melodies.

And any other time, it wouldn't have been such a big deal. I would have willingly unfurled them without a second thought.

But that was then, and in that moment, I burst into tears.

Maybe part of it was because of earlier when I spilled my glass of milk at breakfast and had to go change my uniform for school at the last minute.

Or maybe later when I missed the bus and had to pull Mom out of work to come drive me to class.

Maybe it was when I got my History test back and was disappointed with yet another D-.

Or maybe it was when the two popular girls wouldn't stop picking on me in the lunch line.

It might have even been when I dropped all my books and pencils in the hallway, and they all got kicked around by the other students.

Or better yet when my older brother forgot to pick me up from soccer practice again, and I had to walk home alone, in the pouring rain.

Compared to every other awful thing that had already happened, it wasn't major at all.

But it was when the day's series of unfortunate events had hit me like a wrecking ball tearing down a building.

And just like a wall's structure and frame, I collapsed.

I couldn't take this bad day anymore, and something inside of me just snapped.

It let my guard down and said, "It's okay to cry this time. I'd understand if you did."

And just like that, the tears came flowing out of me like in a little opening in a beaver's dam, just enough to let the water through.

It wasn't even a major thing, but in that time, it broke me,

I mean, it was only just a pair of tangled headphones.




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