Crying Images Novels & Stories

Isinandal niya rin ang kanyang likuran sa dingding na kasalungat ng kinalalagyan nito. Grabbing his own hair as he groaned regretfully, dahan-dahan at hinayaan niyang kumawala ang ilang butil ng luha mula sa kanyang mga mata. Tears that suddenly came to him just like telling him it's fine to let it go because of the absence of eyes around him, inside the space where the only one who's allowed was himself, he burst out sobbing quietly. He looked like a child in his posture while he cries.

They both cried harder holding their father's hand. I hugged them and cried with them too. The three of us are crying in so much pain Our cries and sobs are too painful to hear. Their little bodies are trembling begging for their father to wake up. “See that Daddy? Aren’t you gonna fight for this little angels? They are waiting for you. They are not mad at you.” Cy pulled out from our hug then he move closer to his unconscious father. She was staring at his face intently. Tinaas nito ang kamay niya at marahang hinaplos ang mukha ng daddy niya. Ang mga luha’y ayaw nang paawat. Ang mga mahihinang hikbi ay tuluyan nang lumakas.

A sob fights its way up my throat, but I swallow it. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to be dramatic. But God knows, it hurts. Ang sakit-sakit. Out of habit, I grab my sketchbook on the bedside table. Drawing is the one thing that calms me. I flip to a blank page and start sketching—lines, curves, shadows. My hands move on their own, muscle memory leading the way. And just like that, an image forms. A girl standing in the rain. Hair soaked. Eyes swollen. Shoulders heavy. Still trying to smile even when her world is crumbling.

Sugat na hindi pansin at dama ng iba. "I don't have the right to cry! I shouldn't show them that I'm hurting! I should have no emotions at all because my feelings weren't valid!" Fuck! I want to ask why? I wanted to cry and shout because of the pain that I'm feeling right now. Paano ko nga ba kinakaya ang ganitong sitwasyon? Bakit ba ako nasadlak sa ganitong klase ng buhay? Buhay nga bang matatawag ang kung ano mang mayroon ako ngayon?

"S-Sorry kung kailangan mo pa akong nakita sa ganung sitwasyon" "Celeste, what's wrong with crying in front of me its a big deal for me. Common look at me, I actually love it your being open to me and let me show your tears and weakness to me. Cause most of us are afraid to show their tears to others and either their weakness. That tears is a sign of braveness, its okay to cry than kept it by ourself. Let our tears get all of your pains, kahit sa ganung paraan lang matulungan kita"

Bullshit. Nagmadali akong umalis at umuwi, trying to stop my pain, my tears from coming out. Kailanman, hindi ako umiyak. Kayang-kaya kong pigilan ang mga luha ko. No one will see me cry, no one will see me weak. I know it's good for the soul, but crying for me means you're letting someone make you feel vulnerable. I won't give anyone satisfaction by hurting me. They don't deserve that kind of joy. They don't deserve to see me cry.

Kailangan mong umiyak para matuto kang pakawalan ang lahat ng sakit ng hindi iyon maipon sa dibdib. Crying is a good thing to let out those negative shit inside para gumaan ang damdamin mo at matuto kang lumaban ulit. Hinaplos niya ulit ang painting bago iyon ilagay sa sulok at ibinalik ang puting tela kasama ng ibang painting nito at lumabas na. Naligo at nagbihis bago padapang humiga sa kama niya.

pagalit naman na sagot ni Cristy "Eh ikaw naman pala ang may problema eh, di sana ni-review mo ang nakasulat na sagot bago ka sasagot sa professor mo!" pag dadahilan naman ni Mj "Sisihin mo sarili mo wag ako! Di ka marunong mag review!" dagdag pa nito

Then my chest started hurting, and before I could stop it, tears came. Not pretty tears. Not cinematic, single-tear-down-the-cheek type. More like ugly, silent, nakakahiya kind of crying where you press your sleeve to your face because you don’t want even your own room to witness it. I cried for Jun, kahit hindi ko siya kilala. For Miro, who made jokes about fractions and probably grew up with a missing space he didn’t know how to name. For Marisol, who still smiled while carrying groceries, bills, medicine, and ghosts.

Binuhat ko ang anak ko at niyakap ng mahigpit, while my tears leaky down to my cheek. Seeing him crying it's kill me. I'm sorry baby...