It’s a quiet Saturday morning. The sun is just starting to rise over rolling hills, painting the sky a million different colors. The little town is just waking up, murmured hellos not breaking the peace. Sitting in the corner booth of my favorite coffee shop. It’s warm and cozy, the morning chill leaving my bones as I sip sweet heaven.

The coffee has just the right balance of sweet and bitter so that the deep richness of coffee and airy sugar of creamer work hand in hand; neither overpowering the other. A perfect morning. I sigh, letting myself relax. I let my walls fall one by one.

First, the apprehension that keeps me on edge at the thought of being seen fades away. Then the mask of quiet perfection that I wear at all times falls. Then crafted peace and contentment, followed by the scars of many years past. Finally, I drop the pretense that I am fine.

I let them all go, leaving myself bare. And at the inmost of myself, without the smiles and feigned sympathy, is a deep pain. I shudder, letting it rise in me. A single tear falls, gleaming in the rising sunlight. I let myself _feel _and allow the pain to be known.

And then I let it go; too.