I rarely cry but when I do, I shed a million tears. When I cry, I cry softly because I don’t want them to hear me. I cover the sounds of my weeping with my hands or my pillow and once I’m done crying, my world feels as if it could get better. It doesn’t because a few weeks later, I cry again. It may be because I’ve read something sad but once I start to cry, I cry for every other reason I’m sad and it pours out of me like I am the reason for the ocean. Like my eyes are the source of a waterfall; ongoing until I block off my feeling then something unbearable happens and I can’t help but to cry. I don’t want to cry, but I do and I guess that’s what makes me human.
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