Throughout my life, I have been told not to cry in front of others, no matter how sad or broken I felt inside. To my parents, teachers, friends and coworkers, crying in public showed both one’s weakness in enduring the hardships of life and their pathetic selfishness in demanding the sympathy of others for being so weak.

In spite of this, I found crying in public the best way of relieving the stress and sorrow built up inside me, even though those around me looked down in disapproval. I felt sorry for them, for they refused to let their own viscous troubles escape them in the same manner I did, choosing to contain them under the guise of strong public composure.

Pain, I found however, erodes such false notions of strength and endurance from even the toughest of people. Inflicted emotionally or physically, it was the only way one could acceptably break down in tears in front of others.

This is why I inflict pain on others. To make them cry. To free them from their self contained hardships. The years of abuse, neglect, loss, isolation, and regret that I see in the blood filled tears of those tortured eyes looking up at me soothes my heart deeply. Where one might hear the cries of anguish and fear I hear but the sweet sighs of comfort and relief from those freed from lifetimes worth of misery.

I hear those cries even as I write this, though they seem to be dying down now. I must attend those poor souls once more, to let them know that it’s still okay to cry.

Bye for now.