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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72"><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>I Check My Tears<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Marcia J. Wick, The Write Sisters<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>March 2020<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Word Count: 194<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I check my tears. I can’t allow the glimmer of moisture to slip into a tear duct. If one droplet were to surface and slide onto my cheek, it could unleash a cascade that a decades-old dam might not hold. I could crumble under the weight. Oxygen-robbing memories would drown my soul. Rushing flood waters would push me down and force me along a rocky riverbed out to a bottomless sea.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I must not let down my guard. I’ve learned through experience that after being slammed by one wave, I had best gulp for air and prepare for another crash. I can’t quit. I must keep swimming and hope for the promise of an eddy to rest and regain the strength I’ll need to persevere. With little choice, I claw forward.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I can’t fail. Others count on me. Through the drama of divorce, blindness, sexual assault, and loss, I’ve modeled control. I’ve managed alone. I haven’t stumbled. I steeled my soul against the pain. Life unfolds faster than I can feel; there’s no time for emotion. Any moment, an advancing avalanche may well sweep me into a crevasse. Once again, I check my tears.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal># # #<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>