Life With a Heavy Soul
My soul is a heavy one. Maybe all souls are heavy, and we just carry them differently. Maybe some people can handle it better than others. Maybe some people hide it because they think souls are supposed to be light. Maybe some souls actually are light. I don't really know, you see, because I am not carrying others' souls in this body. The only thing I know for sure is that mine is like lead. Which, obviously, makes no sense. Because wow, my life is good. Don't think I don't know that. I've never lacked what I need; I've never been unwanted or unloved. Heartache isn't something I'm overly familiar with. I come from a cute little family that lives a quiet, happy life and never rocks the boat for fear of making waves. We are simple, but we are grand. In my opinion. So then why do I feel like my soul is weighing me down when I get up to face each day? If I come from a happy life, shouldn't I have a happy soul? If Jesus died for all my human ins