Tears

Lara and I are prone to crying in the face of something sad, joyful or overwhelming. I will spare you examples, but especially in the movie theater there is a lot of sniffling going on between the two of us.

Now both faced with a fully fledged drama, we somehow manage our crying differently. Surprisingly perhaps, Lara does very little of it. I, on the other hand, a lot. Little things may trigger it, rarely anything that happens in the moment. More so when I am reminiscing, digging into old batches of photos, or when somebody sends me a personal memento or heartfelt note over the internet.

I don't hide it anymore. Lara's caught me crying, as she looked up at me from across the room as I sit behind my laptop, covering my face or whiping my eyes. I am not in the least bit self-conscious or ashamed. Social dictates tell me of course to show fortitude at all times, for the good of the patient. But why should we be hiding sorrow from eachother? We are soulmates in every other way. If it were glee or contentment, we would share it readily and hop up and down together. Why is grief so underrated and why should sorrow be suppressed? I am about to lose my partner and I should just keep on swallowing hard? Please.

When Lara catches me in tears, she motions me over and puts my cheek on her chest, stroking my hair. It relieves the anguish of the moment. It doesn't heal the lingering sadness.