I think I might have a crying fetish. Weird huh? Not that I like seeing people hurt, not at all...I believe the show of emotion may be it, then again it could be the physical aspects. It is so truthful, and so intimate, and so beautifully natural.
Society stops us from crying at times when ordinarily we might like to. We are taught not to cry at happy times, emotional times, and sad times.
Sometimes when there is the risk that the person could cry, but they aren't really crying and are still somewhat able to keep their composure (with slightly moist eyes, maybe wavering voice, heavy sighs)... it's the teetering on the EDGE that gives me the shivers! And when I sense that they are so close to the edge that there is a risk they might go over it, the reaction I feel inside goes something like this:
"Uh-ohh... omigod, no...DON'T cry...NOOOO...it's OK, it's OK..." and as I'm thinking that, I feel this sharp pain in my heart...literally, my heart aches for them!! And yet that experience of pain also brings me a jolt of something else at the same time...
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I didn’t really like it when she cried.
I just loved the way it made her look.
Her eyes were always vibrant.
But, God—God, when she cried…they sparkled.
Her cheeks would turn that perfect plum, that dangerous shade of blue-crimson.
She would push her hair out of her face: in futility.
It would fall back, frazzled, crazed.
Beautiful.
I would watch her, in her less-than-silent agony,
My eyes: absorbed, ablaze. Like a hawk.
Like a vulture.
She was so real.
So vulnerable, delicate in her fragility
Passionate, with her lips pushed lightly forward.
Almost in a kiss…
Part of me wanted to be that gleam at the tip of her eyelash.
A bigger part of me wanted to be the one to push the gleam, the tear, away.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t be the one who loved her.
I couldn’t love her and be the one that made her cry.
It wasn’t that I wanted to make her cry…
Really, it wasn’t.
But, to me...
She was beautiful when she cried.
