The Stubbornness of Adults

 　　You laugh the loudest, you cry the most bitterly, you pretend nothing's wrong, you endure the hardship, you suffer sleepless nights

　　—preface.

　　An adult's breakdown is silent; there are no shouts, no confidants, only silent nighttime sobs and unspoken insomnia. During the day, work continues as usual, colleagues laugh and joke, friends banter as if nothing has happened.

　　We seem to have forgotten the last time we laughed genuinely; we only remember smiling at everyone, doing whatever comes to mind, and slowly it becomes normal. We

　　seem to understand what forced smiles and indifference mean. Life forces us to grow up, forces us to hold back our tears, wears away our joys and sorrows, and the night becomes an outlet for emotions, a refuge for sadness.

　　We increasingly prefer living alone, without needing to compromise or submit. Yet, we also increasingly dislike living alone, afraid of doing foolish things, afraid of having no one to comfort us when we cry, afraid of no one understanding us, afraid of having no one to confide in.

　　As adults, we live with a sense of turmoil. There are too many things we can't control, too many things beyond our control. We're forced to abandon the innocence and liveliness of childhood, to learn how to navigate life and work like adults. Our true selves are lost; we strive to be like everyone else.

　　The stubbornness of adulthood is perhaps the tears we hold back during the day, the silent breakdowns, the nonchalant work, and the contradictory aspects of life.