Cracks

Should I be crying more?  Less?  Is this the right time to laugh?  Should I be holding it together better?  Don't ever get angry.  Why can't I just be me?  The facade is cracking.  Like so much plaster in an ancient abandoned house.  A house full of memories.  Full of ghosts.  Full of the emotions I have internalized throughout the long years.  Why is it always my fault?  Why do I always screw it up.  The facade has cracked because the foundation is crumbling.  The walls which held everything I believed to be true.  The truth has begun to penetrate like rays of sun through the cracks in the façade.  The welcome truths.  The harsh, unrelenting truths.  Pelting me.  Soothing me.  Shaking me to the core.  If I survive this earthquake, who will I be?