He said I am stoic, rarely if ever showing my emotions.
Funny, I always thought that I wore my heart on my sleeve.
Maybe, just maybe, he meant that I don't let them see me sweat. This could be true, I suppose.
I guess my coat of armor is solid and thick—these days. Or, perhaps it always was. Could be that I was born to do battle—genetically equipped with the traits to tackle crisis after crisis, heartbreak after heartbreak, and survive it all. Even thrive on hardship. On this journey called life, flat roads are so boring. Hills are so much more exciting to climb and descend. We choose a course that best suits what we want out of life. Easy road or difficult one? I'll take the bumpy road. Much more challenging. Keeps me on my toes. Plus if you don't take risks, you are playing it too safe. Safe means you might as well be sleeping comfortably under a blanket where nothing can hurt you. And also where nothing can inspire you to reach further, either.
And so if I am acting all stoic now, it is because I know I will survive this little setback as well. And it is small potatoes, when you place it next to the big spuds I have dealt with in the past. People come and go... that's okay as long as you know...
But don't think for a second, I wasn't affected. I was. The loss is real. The void is apparent.
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