Silent Tears

My mind tried to cry itself to sleep tonight, and the tears burned my eyes unexpectedly. Now, I sit and punch out cathartic words I wish you wouldn’t see.

Tears come so sparingly to me any more that I almost forgot what it felt like to weep, truly weep and let the tears flood over me, washing away the things that can never be.

Because it doesn’t matter what my desires are; these things are not mine to hold on to, no matter how badly I want them.

And what will bring light to the situation is not me, or us, or this, but clarity, instead of the hazy fog we brew together. For that haze makes everything murky and confusing and dreadfully wonderful.

It creates the illusion of an alternate reality where we could be. Cozy and warm and away from the world.

But it is only an illusion.

And not the right path.

But oh how I wish it were.

This was never to be a matter of the heart.

Yet when the heart is already involved, when love already exists, who are we to tell it what it can and can not do. It acts on its own accord and follows whatever whim it chooses. And the whim it always chooses is to grow.

It should have stayed out of it.

Because then my eyes would be closed. My pillow would be dry. And the knowledge that sooner or later my heart will be broken would not be on my mind.

25 responses to “Silent Tears

  1. I can’t like this but I’m thinking of you and I hope this passes and you have a different outlook- a better one, sooner than you imagine. xo, J

    • Thanks Jayne. I’m sad for what couldn’t be, but I’m glad for what was if that makes sense. Just wrapping my head around things.

      And I hate laying in bed crying. I believe it breeds a sense of hopelessness so I try to avoid it. *hugs and kisses* and *thanks* for the thoughts.

  2. Oh Caitlyn, I’m sorry that you are going through this. My thoughts are with you. xo

  3. Many hugs and much love.

  4. Sorry you’re hurting. Hope you get peace.

  5. ::big hug:: I really do empathise. I know that feeling deeply – and the tears really are healing xx

    • Thanks ee. I’m tired of the tears today, but my tears have always flowed easily and they’ll dry up soon enough. And when they’re gone, all that will be left are happy memories. At least that’s what I’m counting on. xoxo

  6. I have no idea what is going on. But you sound like you’re hurting. And for that I’m so very sorry.

    • I second Noodle here. You know where to find me if you need to talk. Love you, girl. xx Hy

    • Thank you Marian, but no need to be sorry. The short story: It’s the end of a brief 3 month affair M and I had with my bff. It’s ending on good terms, because it must, because of a thousand reasons, and with no hard feelings, but only heart ache. Thank you for your thoughts. But I’m sure it will be okay. *hugs and kisses*

  7. As someone once said, better to have loved and lost than never cum at all. . .

  8. I’m told that we humans are the only animal species who weep; who alone own tears. May it be a “joy making sadness” when all the pieces come together. During hard times some time back, I’d set Wed. morning as “time to sit with my tears”, put on opera, and find them–my tears. All the spiritual writers speak of this. And then there’s “Teargasms” and “Crygasms”. I wish you those soon. They are the best kind.

    • Thanks Dan. As these last few days have past, I’m starting to grasp myself and my head, figuring out where I’m at. I love your ideas of Wednesday morning cries, but I really hope my heart and my head are in a better space by then. xoxo

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