A perfectly beautiful blue sky. So perfect that it stretches in all directions no matter how hard you strain to see a misplaced, small cloud in the distance. Not even the small trace of the ribbon left by a passing airplane, leaving white streaks of faux clouds behind that take hours to fully fade away.
You lay on a blanket and stare up, or you tilt your head as you water your flowers in your garden. You lay down your book and squint your eyes, and you know that you should appreciate this amazing display of nature. “Not a cloud in the sky,” is one of those phrases that people toss out, without really giving much thought as to what they are saying, but paying some kind of homage to something that you know you should appreciate. It was never taught to you in school, or instructed by your parents. They never said, “It’s a good idea to appreciate the beautiful things around you that are out of your control,” but it’s expected by society for people to like nature, like perfection, like things that seem so content.
So as you think about the crystal-clear, blue sky, your mind wanders off to all the other things in life that you are “suppose to” appreciate, “suppose to” do, “suppose to” be. All those rules that are never actually written down or said out loud. The way you’re suppose to wait two days after the first date to call, the composure you’re suppose to maintain after a loved-one passes because showing sadness equates to weakness.
The way jealousy is viewed as a negative, when in reality it just shows how much you care. When caring is viewed as a sign of softness in a negative way, where people hide their fears and emotions — grit and bear it.
All these things you are “suppose to” do, be or admire, even if that’s not how you feel in the deepest part of your soul. It’s all outward appearances, and it eats you up inside. Everyone knows it exist — the thoughts you actually think and the emotions you actually feel, and then the mask you put on for the rest of the world, even for those you love the most, care for the most and tell everything to — well, almost everything.