Thedewsperspective

Since the death of my mom, my eyes water, a lot.  I feel like crying, everyday, every second of the day.  Do you know that feeling?  Feeling like crying.  If someone asked you to describe the feeling, how’d you put it in words?

I’d say:

It’s that deferred breath in the middle of actually crying.  The breath you have to catch in between tears.  That inhale that seems like it doesn’t expire.  That moment in between crying and wailing.  It’s a feeling of emptiness that one so ineptly attempt to fill with unhealthy vices just to avoid breaking into pieces.  Not realizing that you’re just adding a multitude of cracks  to an already unstable dire of emotions that could implode at any moment.  

If my emotions were a gun I’d say that I have a hairpin trigger with a faulty safety.  So my eyes water and stay watered even when others can’t see the translucent tears.  I feel like crying.  I’m not too masculine to cry.  It’s not my falsified ego and perceived masculinity that’s preventing my tears from falling.  Apparently it’s just not time for me to cry tears, outwardly.  Or better yet, maybe I’m crying with every typed word, every sentence constructed, every feeling I’m able to emote in this writing.  Yes, today, at this very moment, I’ll shed my tears through my pen.  I’m crying❤️