Mud Vein

by Tarryn Fisher

“Humans weren’t made to carry someone else’s weight. We can barely lift our own.”

“Maybe lifting someone else’s weight makes yours a little more bearable,”

“It’s your darkness that pulls me in. Your mud vein. But sometimes having a mud vein will kill you.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked him. “Between the love of your life, and your soulmate?” “One is a choice, and one is not.”

The first person you are connected to is your mother. By a cord composed of two arteries and a vein. She keeps you alive by sharing her blood and her warmth and her very life. When you are born, and the doctor severs that cord, a new one is formed. An emotional cord.

So, you ignore what’s inside of you. Thinking if you don’t acknowledge it, it’s not really there. Until someone unlikely comes along and cracks you. They see every dark corner, and they get it. And they tell you it’s okay to have dark corners, instead of making you feel ashamed of them.