Smile Inside Crying Outside Novels & Stories

"Do you think that deeply about my character?" "Yup. And all I can see in your eyes are full of sadness. I thought you were carrying the problems of the whole world." I smiled at what he said. "You're really bad at judging someone, aren't you?" "I'm just making you laugh. But I swear, you're obviously sad," he said looking at me seriously. "Some people seem upbeat and cheerful, but inside they are struggling with the symptoms of depression. Like you, you may look happy outside, but broken inside."

He looked happy with her. So perfect. So natural. Like she truly belonged to his world. Not me. I clicked one photo and stared at it until my chest ached. I wanted to cry, but I blinked fast and forced the tears back. Not here. Not in front of everyone. I smiled at my screen, pretending to read. Pretending I was fine. But inside, I was breaking.

“Now your smile has grown dimmer.” "You wear your heart on your sleeve and let everyone trample over it." "He made you that way", he exhibited such soulful mourning it made my head spin. “No, Adam, my smile didn’t get dim. It just grew real,” I said, trying to steady the tremor that kept wanting to become sobs. I gathered myself — the way we do in cinemas when the heroine steers the plot from the precipice. “I don’t smile for the sake of smiling now. I smile because I’m happy, not because I’m hiding everything under a mask.”

I see you struggling. On the outside, you hold it together. You keep a smile and hold your head up high; you want to take on the world and embrace life. You meet new people and want to tell them your story because maybe they understand. Maybe they know what it feels like. You keep a smile on your face.

Hopefully, I will find my happiness in another way. I can't cry, and I have to keep smiling. I will show all these people the correct path I choose, and they will all be satisfied even though I was devastated. Gosh, I can't be selfish. Yes, don't be selfish. I can only smile bitterly at this fact. In fact, it's more bitter than just bitter melon juice. Or the bitterest medicine you have ever taken.

Not a prisoner in her own skin. Tears ran down my face anyway. They did not match the smile, and that made my stomach twist. The wrongness of it hurt worse than any nightmare. Smiling while crying. Looking calm while screaming inside. I am here, I wanted to yell. Help me. Someone see me. See past this fake face.

When I force happy emotions I feel hollow inside, and the only thing I hear is the echoes of my every heartbeat. I wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there until this fear and pain went away. I felt so miserable, and I fought hard for a smile, I didn't want him or anyone to pity me. And at the same time, I was angry and wanted to hunt down that creep and make him pay for what he did to me. I was battling between positivity and misery it seemed, I couldn't decide which side to pick so I chose both. Insanity you say?

I immediately smacked his chest. Not hard. Just enough to make my point. “Of course I’m happy!” I pulled back enough to glare at him through my tears. My cheeks were hot, and I knew I probably looked ridiculous. “It’s not fair.” His smile widened. “What isn’t?” “You’re not even crying.” That only made him laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m definitely crying.” He lifted his sleeve and carefully wiped away the tears on my cheeks. “Just not on the outside.” His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I want to close in shame because of the awkward sound of my laughter. “Take care of the child and don't let anything happen to you. It is important that you always think that you have something to take care of inside you. Don't go hungry because you are not the only one who needs nutrition. ” a smile flashed on her lips. It was sincere and I could really feel her joy as she looked at me. "Don't let your child leave you…" From being happy I felt sadness enveloped the surroundings. As well as Maddison's eyes. I could see the pain in his eyes.

The bone-deep steadiness he carried even when everything around us fell apart. My breath hitched, but I didn’t cry. I had cried enough for him. Instead, I smiled. Softly. Quietly. Slowly. Not the reckless, adrenaline-fueled smile I used to wear in Dramador when winning a fight meant living one more day. Not the brittle smile I forced through interviews and book signings. But a real one. A steady one. The kind that came from acceptance rather than denial. From love instead of pain.