It’s tiny and extremely thin. You can’t read it unless you’re up super close to me, but it reads:
commuovere (v.) to stir, to touch, to move to tears — it’s an Italian word and its definition. Commuovere is lost in translation, but the meaning of it comes close to “heartwarming,” or a feeling so intense that it has moved one to affectionate tears. All my life I’ve been externally tough, but acutely sensitive within. I’m always tuning into my emotions and analyzing what thought or feeling stems from where. Sometimes I wish I could publicize all my journals to see if anyone could relate. I’ve written since 3rd grade. In my lifetime, however, I have felt feelings that are utterly indescribable. Like when I gave birth to my child. When I realized I loved someone. When I said goodbye to someone who was terminally ill. When someone that wouldn’t take their medication unless I spoke to them told me I was going to be a great nurse. When I would visit my father. When I’d say bye to my mother. Feelings that in their purest state provoke tears as means of expression. Those are the times I have felt most vulnerably human.
Whether the feeling comes from a happy or sad place, it’s always a beautiful thing to simply feel. I believe our hearts and mind expand in great lengths from these. I pray to never be numb. And if you ever find yourself loosing sense, I hope you shake yourself and find something or someone that ignites that pulse again.
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