I Didn’t Cry But He Did

I met a guy. I don’t mean just any guy, I actually met a man who listens to me, respects me and is interested in me as a person.

It wasn’t meant to happen as I have never ever had a functional romantic relationship, and the more I have worked on myself the more it has become apparent that it is good for me to be on my own, do me, heal my wounds and take as good care of myself physically, emotionally and spiritually as I can.

But as things don’t go the way we plan, I did meet someone whom I instantly had a deeper connection with. He stayed at mine for three days and night and day we lie on my bed talking about life, issues, problems and aspirations. We laughed, joked and cuddled listening to silly old tunes from our youths.

Time came when I felt like he should know “the real me” as in I felt ready to open up about my childhood, the abuse and its effects on me. And I did. I said look, I have something to tell you, and he stared at me with a puzzled look in his eyes. I leaned back and started my story; the whole time he held me, quiet, attentive.

When I reached the point of recounting my first flashback into the abuse and how messed up I was when I remembered, he started crying. Soft, quiet tears filled his eyes but I didn’t stop talking. I explained my raw emotions, the pain, and how hard the last 4 years have been since the memories started coming back, and he just kept holding me. When I ran out of things to say he started talking.

“I am so fucking angry” He said with so much strength in his voice that I was seriously startled. He kept crying and repeating how angry he was for my sake and how he hated my father for what he had done to me, and all I could do was listen. I then said, are you okay, and he said yea. He asked me if I was, and I said of course. He said, why are you not crying, and I said; I have shed my tears, now is not the time for me to emotionally connect with the story, it’s like recounting facts and that doesn’t make me cry…

For me it’s like reading out a grocery list, I can spill out gross details without a flicker of an eye, but if I really connect with what I’m saying, I become vulnerable and will cry. For me, this wasn’t the right time to do that, but I am still deeply grateful for his tears, for they show me that what I have gone through was painful, disgusting, and beyond human understanding.

They show me that he thinks that my pain is worthwhile tears and anger. And that’s all that matters. For now I know I am worthy.

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One thought on “I Didn’t Cry But He Did

  1. Pingback: All good things come to an end « Little Girl In The Rain

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