The Joy of Crying

September 30, 2017

A long, lingering tear rolls down his cheek, the sad man sits still. He stares blankly into the darkness left by the hole in his heart. As the sun slowly rises he doesn't move. He hasn't moved in days now. The empty space where she used to sit leers at him aggressively. Nothing can get her out of his mind. He knows she's gone, and that he needs to move on, but he cannot. His empty heartbeat resonating through his brain, he looks at his watch. 4:49 am. The Sad Man sits still. His sadness isn't leaving him today. Tears start to fall abundantly into the deep abyss of his cries. He bites his lip as hard as he can to slow them down, but a small string of blood trickles down his chin instead. He looks down, uncontrollably shaking, at his pale body. A warm, fuzzy feeling starts to tingle within his chest, slowly spreading to his limbs then his head. The sad man Is confused, panicked, this strange unusual sensation he is feeling is new to him. He feels it now. The joy of crying. He feels it throughout his soul, all of his emotions being let out in an unshrouded cloud of joy. Many people had told him :"go on, cry a bit, you'll see, you'll feel better." But all tears had brought him was pain and sadness. He now felt like a circus animal, living in captivity all his life, finally galloping into the wild with a smile in its face, its heart racing and its whole body sweating with excitement. As the tears flow down his face like an open tap, he cries, openly, a gleaming smile lighting up his face. He is free now. Free from regret, free from the pain slowly eating out his heart, free to live once again. He gets up. Slowly making his way to the door, he looks back one last time at the empty liquor bottles and cigarette butts littering his desk. The noose hangs high above his head, but he doesn't see it. He walks out, ready to take life by the hands and embrace it. The sun shines in his face like a beacon of hope, lighting up the darkness with him. Passers by see him and stare in disgust at his sick, pale body. But he doesn't notice them. The sad man has lost his name, he now lives with the living.

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