I almost cried in the supermarket again

Dear Delyara, I hate how ordinary it was. A queue, bright lights, too many choices, one item I couldn’t find, one person standing too close, one more decision than my mind wanted to make. Nothing tragic. Nothing worth a story, really. And still, for a few minutes, I could feel tears close enough to embarrass me. I think this is what happens when you’ve been living at the edge of your own capacity for too long. Tiny things begin arriving as if they are larger than they are because there is no room left for them to land gently. I kept it together. Came home. Unpacked slowly. But the feeling stayed with me. Not because of the shop. Because of what it revealed.