Easy tears

I always hated my easy tears. The sudden welling of my eyes when a scene was too poignant. The blurry vision as I watched an overjoyed puppy cuddle its owner. The small quiver of my lips when I saw a young child imitating his father reading a newspaper. It infuriated me that my eyes would betray me and leak of their own volition, especially when I desperately wanted to be the warm and charming but slightly aloof woman who was always composed; never emotional. But that had never been me and likely would never be.

Every teardrop felt like a signal to others: this one is weak. The thing about tears, I quickly realised, is that they are relentless when they need to escape. Trying to hold them back angers them and so they fall with that much more vigour. I’ve learned to allow them to be. Just like our souls need love and our lungs need air, our tears need to fall. They aren’t a mark of shame or indicative of a weakened soul but the opposite. They are quintessence of someone who feels too much and sees too much.

In a hard world, a world where insouciance seems to be the currency, easy tears can feel like a defect but I’ve always found those kind of people to be the best at loving fervently and without reservation.

--

--

The Lemon Diaries

Just some random mumblings that are cathartic for me to share x