The Weeper

I cry a lot nowadays. Nobody knows I do it. It’s always after everyone is gone, and it hits me at the strangest moments. A movie. A song. A memory. Anything can trigger it. I’ll just be sitting there and all of a sudden, I feel a heaviness welling up inside me like a tidal wave. It pours out and washes over me, and I can’t stop it. So, I just let it go. It usually stops after a couple of minutes anyway. But this might happen several times in a day.

The weird thing is that I can’t really remember the last time I cried. It’s been a while, so this feels like I’m catching up for lost time. But I know it’s more than that. Maybe it’s chemical or hormonal. Maybe I’m out of balance so to speak. Nothing else about me has really changed. I’m tired, but not really sad. I’m actually more at peace than I’ve been in a long time. As I’ve drawn closer to God, I’m learning to let more things go.

Honestly, I don’t always feel sad when I’m crying either. Sometimes, it’s completely unexplainable. I suppose crying is a better response than flying off the handle and yelling like my father does. So far, it’s personal and private. But I don’t really think anyone around here would notice or care if it wasn’t. I guess that’s the saddest part. Nobody would care that I’m sad.