Smile But Crying Novels & Stories

SHERNEIL. Why was it so hard to smile or laugh? I stared at my reflection in the mirror, attempting to tug my lips upward like I see people normally do when they smile. But nothing happened. It didn't look like I was smiling; rather, it looked like I was about to cry, my face scrunched up. This wasn't a smile. This was a grimace. Why is it so hard for me to smile like every other person does? Why don't I find things funny like they do?

She grinned, a thousand times harder to pull out a smile, desperately trying to turn the corners of her mouth upward, but why did she feel so heavy at the corners, as if a thousand-pound scale were hanging downward? "Look, look, Vivian, look I'm smiling, I'm smiling, I'm happy, I'm really happy." Vivian couldn't look away, she looked at the woman who wasn't crying or laughing, she looked at the woman in front of her with a smile showing on her face and tears streaming down her face. "Okay, okay! Don't laugh! Don't laugh!" Vivian pounced on her, "Don't laugh, cry if you're sad."

I broke down in emotion, crying so pitifully that a severely injured person like Brian had to coax me back. "Crying is ugly, smiling... it's better to cry...." Brian said while frowning; every word he uttered seemed like he wanted to take his life. I put my finger on Brian's lips, stopping him from continuing. For his peace of mind, I also tried not to cry; I forced a wry smile. My face must be terrible, but Brian looks at me gently.

Smile… Smile Smile~ It was at that time, during my internal struggle when Valek, my older brother, walked up to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “I feel your pain.” I looked at him in shock but didn’t let my smile falter yet at the same time I couldn’t stop my emotions from bubbling up. I felt something at that time and I couldn’t help it when my eyes brimmed with tears that eventually rolled down his cheeks. I don’t know why that suddenly happened. Maybe I thought I haven't really lost everything. Maybe that slight hope made me feel things and I ended up crying like a psychopath, with tears rolling down my eyes yet my grin wasn’t fading. I still had my brother who seemed to car

he said. “How come you’re so cool about it?” I asked. “Do you want me to cry?” he asked. We both smile. My tears are falling. “Don’t ruin your make-up,” he said. “I know you’re going to be okay,” I said. “Don’t assume. I might cry later,” he said before mimicking an ugly cry. “Oh…you’re still cute even when you’re crying like that,” I said. He shook his head but still has that smile on his face. I know it’s not easy to accept the situation instantly but he’s trying to be calm.

"I get that, but sometimes you need someone to cry on when you think you need space." "Thanks but I think I'm all cried out." I smiled sadly, not making it a huge deal. "Good - I mean wait, not good that you've cried but good because I don't want to see you cry. You look better smiling." He smiled sweetly. Wow, what did I do to deserve him? "Oh come on," I was smiling like an idiot, my cheeks heating up. "Now you're just trying to be cheesy?" "Is it working?" he teased.

I smirk. ##########

she complained again. "Why are you smiling to yourself, Mas? Are you mocking me?" she said to him. "Ha-ha-ha. Why does it matter if I smile? Does my sweet smile distract your world? So that you start feeling bothered by it?" Faith teased. "Ugh... so confident! No, it doesn't!" Kasih quickly replied. "Besides, it's better to smile than to keep crying like that person ... there!" he mocked, pointing at Kasih. "Mas Faith ...!"

Her laughter, though punctuated by coughs, was a testament to her spirit, a defiance against the pain and suffering that sought to confine her. Despite the sorrow that enveloped the room, I couldn't resist joining in the duet of laughter and tears. It was a bittersweet symphony, a melody of emotions that intertwined in the most poignant of ways. Guila's smile, genuine and unburdened, was a light that cut through the darkness that had descended upon us. Yet, my own smile felt fragile, as if it were a mask barely concealing the wellspring of grief within.

I said. That made her laugh. It was a beautiful laugh. It was not a laugh. The sound of her laugh made me happy. It made me feel good. I would do anything to hear her laugh again. I looked at her stomach. She caught me looking. "Don’t look at me like that " she said. I smiled. "What are you talking about?" I said. "You are smiling " she said. "I do smile " I said. "No you smirk " she said. "Smiling is different " she said.