I used to be dead inside. Now I cry ... A lot .... I don't know why I cry so much. It is certainly more than simply losing a boyfriend. More than losing my parents.
I cry both with positive and negative stimuli. I lie down in my couch, positioned to wail and last only seconds. I sit in a room of 400 people at a workshop I joined to affirm all of my dreams - my very existence and during a writing exercise, I blink back tears, fearful if they get a good toehold, they will never end.
I cry and wonder why it is such a bad thing. Why it is such a shameful thing. Why I feel the need to hide it.
I think of my parents and realize.
I don't think I ever really saw either of them cry.
Just another gift they never gave me.