That Tinge

When all the world is finally right, when you look at all you have and for once you feel grateful, when you smile and laugh and feel happy and you know it's not just a mask, that's when you feel that tinge. The little pain in your heart that tells you that inside you are still hurting. The strings on your heart, so loose in moments, begins to get tight again. You're personal puppeteer has woken up from a long, deep sleep. He begins to pull those strings, tighter some days than others. You can't wait for the day he gets tired of his work and goes back to sleep. It's that tinge, that pull that keeps you awake at night, contemplating, pondering, thinking of what once was and what is no more. That smile so bright starts to be a disguise again. That laugh so joyful starts to be an annoying chorus playing to keep the crowd entertained. It's the night you've dreaded all along, although you never knew it. But oddly enough, that tinge is good. Beautiful even. That annoying little pain is a reminder that the pain is real and it had a bigger source. A source that was real, magical. That tinge is your reminder that you're human and that not all days can be bright shiny. Some days have to contain that pain. You're puppeteer has to get paid somehow. That tinge, is apart of life.