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"That is why I am crying." I am not crying. But I am close.

I'm even more confused about why I am crying right now. I wasn't expecting Sierra to embrace me, but I felt my hands slowly embracing her back. "I want you to know that it's fine with me if you cry in front of me. Crying is not a sign of weakness; it is a means to express your emotions. It just means that you are strong enough to let go of your joy or despair in the form of tears."

I take another drink. But he doesn't budge. "Even if Wes is an asshole, you're still allowed to cry." "But I don't want to cry," I say. "I've felt like I was going to throw up all day, sure, but I don't feel like I need to cry." Is that bad? Or just weird? It's the absolute truth - I'm definitely not holding back tears. I don't even have that achy feeling you get in your throat or behind your eye sockets that means that the waterworks are on their way. I just feel...like I just ate an entire tub of month-old tuna salad from a gas station.

And worse, I was crying in the presence of someone I was trying to convince myself worthy of. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. It is okay for a man to cry. There's nothing wrong with showing emotions. It also can help me to better understand. I am not exactly known for following social norms, Mav.," I heard her whisper from behind me, though she didn't make a single move toward me. It was enough for me to stop fighting my own emotions and just let myself purge this overwhelming sorrow from my soul. I let the tears flow as I continued to describe how Baba told me Mama wasn't my "real" mother and how I would never be his son.

I saw a conflict in her eyes, as if she knew exact how I was feeling and what I was mentally going through. "There are a lot of people who will want to prey on your tears. Tears will only make you look weak. Don't give in to them no matter how tempting it is to just let go and cry your eyes out. Cry all you want when you're alone. You can cry when you're behind the comforts of a closed door. I guess... You can cry in front of me too, since I'm your master." The last sentence felt so awkward that it brought a small smile to my lips.

🥀 MELONIE'S POV 🥀 I felt the tears welling up inside me, a dam about to burst. I tried to hold them back, to stem the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. But it was no use. The floodgates opened, and I was consumed by a torrent of grief. I sobbed uncontrollably, my body shaking with each ragged breath. Tears streamed down my face, hot and salty, as I wailed in anguish. I felt like I was drowning in my own sorrow, unable to escape the crushing weight of my emotions.

“Won’t she die in the process of giving birth?” “How will I cope??” “Will I be able to see her funny smiles??” “Will I be able to hear her funny jokes??” “Will I be able to laugh and play like I use to??” “Will I be able to see her teasing me??” ‘Can I even do without her being by my side?” All these troops into my head as tears rolled down my cheeks The tears rolled down continuously and I couldn’t control it anymore as it keeps on flowing down from my eye lid.

The words come out and a single tear drops from my eye, rolling down my cheek. ##########

“But I do not feel whole. I feel… wrong. Like something inside me is cracked.” Mom leans closer. “Cracked does not mean ruined.” The tenderness of that sentence shatters me. My eyes burn, and I bite the inside of my cheek hard to stop tears. Mom touches my arm. “Sweetheart… you can cry.” I shake my head. “If I start, I do not know if I will stop.”

I cried even harder, like a child who lost their candy. My tears kept falling non-stop, and I couldn't control it. "It's okay. Just let it out, Drew. I'm here. I won't leave you."