This work was last updated March 3, 2016

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There is a moment when you realize that you're cracking, not like ice or glass but subtler like earth. I'm cracking and I didn't realize it until my nightmare. When I woke up sobbing and not completely sure why but, underneath that waterfall I felt ice spread, making my insides feel the way you do when the winter wind it blowing to hard. And that's okay.

The door bell rang and in a half asleep slumber I stumbled downstairs and opened my door to Steve. A nice enough guy. He rents the parking spot behind our house. He was mad at me and that was okay. Someone's car was parked in his spot again. He told me how many time that had happened and I told him I knew. But this time it wasn't that the snow hadn't been plowed or that a tenant had taken it by accident, this time it was just a random guy.

He ask me if I was Sara. I told him I was. He spit out the words: "I'm sorry for your loss." I told him it was okay. He promptly moved on. His condolences were out of obligation. He told me he would have to pat for parking again and that he had to go to work so he couldn't wait for the tow truck. I apologized, shut the door and felt like an idiot. And that was okay.

I fucked up and it sent pins and needles through my skin. The guilt followed swiftly after.

Her Will came yesterday. I pretended it didn't bother me, made a sarcastic comment, took it upstairs and cried: not long or hard. I didn't sob, I just sank into it slowly like quicksand.

Taking a deep breath I walk to my best friend's room. She told me again about her breakup. I listened and held her while she cried. I couldn't bother her with me, not right now. And that's okay.

She wouldn't understand; I wasn't mad about that. I was a fact. She was trying and I shouldn't expect more from her. She was doing her best same way I was..

That didn't change the fact i doubted anyone my age understood the paradigme shift that happened far too quickly and left me floundering, searching for my bearings in the darkness.

In one day: I became a landlord, inherited a mortgage, and my Mom died. And that's okay. Expected for the fact that it's not, and I never allow myself to admit it.

My perpetually positive outlook has tricked me into painting a smile on my face. And I can't do it anymore and that scares me. I don't know what the he'll I'm supposed to be doing. And for the first time, I can't ask my Mom how I'm supposed to handle it all. I can't call her in the middle of the night when panic forces my mind to spin and my breath to come to quickly. She won't see me graduate, she won't be at my wedding, she'll never be a grandma. God, it hurts me and it never stops, never lessens. It leaves me empty and too full at the same time.

So I'm cracking and that's okay.