Crying Is For Sissies

I want to make something clear: I DON’T CRY.  Mostly because I’m afraid I won’t stop.  Something triggered the water-works today and for a while I couldn’t get in control of myself.  I screamed, silently, hoping to clear the crying but it only made it worse.  Not until I got down on my knees and pled for the floodgates to close did I finally calm down.  I put a cold damp cloth to my face to hide the evidence.  I don’t cry pretty, and the tell-tale blotches and shiney eyes announce to the world that I’m unstable and will bust into tears at a moments notice.

The trigger was simple enough: I was late on the rent and my ever-patient landlady said I had to stop paying late and I needed to fix it or go to a smaller apartment.  I’ve never felt more like a compete failure as an adult before.  I felt weak, useless, frail and angry all at the same time, and …..here they come again.  I can’t cry here, I’m in public…..

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