Six Reasons Why He Cried

Seven Reasons Why He Cried


Grave
He is sobbing, body wracking sobs sweep over him, stealing every breath he takes. He kneeled on the ground, the grass around him tickling the bare skin of his knees. The wind blew as if singing a cheerful song, the smell of spring and flowers in bloom filled the air. But in his heart was deep eternal despair. In the distance church bells began to rhythmically chime in quick succession. Everything around him was so alive, while he was dead. He sobbed, but for every tear he cried, he had two more still left to cry.

Toughen Up
Charles Donahue was terrified. Bone still, knees shaking, heart catching in your throat terrified. His father, a tall, burly man with a military buzz cut stood before him, a stern and foreboding scowl etched on his face. His hands were on his hips as he surveyed the damage. The stench of alcohol stung Charles’ nostrils as blood gushed out of a deep gash on his knee. Biting his lip, Charlie desperately fought tears. Noticing Charlie’s tenseness, his father’s face lifted into one of absolute amusement. He snickered at Charles, “Toughen up, Charles. Stop being a sissy, it’s only a battle scar.” He was more of a sergeant than a father. Charles wanted what other seven year olds wanted when they got hurt: a band aid, a hug, and a kiss. Was that too much to ask from him? The harshness of his own father’s voice sent Charles into long overdue tears.

Tears & Rain
Pit-Pat-pit-Pit-Pat...She stood before him, almost angelic in appearance. The rain fell on them as Charles stared at her forlornly. Sensing the inevitable, Charles pulled her into a final lovers embrace, which seemed stiff and formal on her part. Pit-Pat-pit-Pit-Pat... The rain echos off the far away gutters of his cheap apartment complex. She was wearing her faded Harvard sweatshirt, which was now a deep burgundy from all the rain.
“I’ll call you to tell you I’ve made it there safely,” she said rather stiffly. Charles expected her to leave, but she still stood there, gazing at him with a blank expression. His eyes were drawn immediately to her hand, she was no longer wearing her ring. Charles stared at her, wondering what his face looked like. Was it blank? Could she see the explosions going on inside his heart? Could she see his pleading eyes, or feel his breaking heart? He wanted to scream, grab her, and never let her go. His heart leapt as she walked away from him, tears filling his eyes as regret swept over him. He had left so much unsaid. Water streamed down his, bitter tears mixing with the salty rain.

The Sad Movie
Blue lights dance around the walls as the credits to a melodramatic movie rolls. He was eighteen or nineteen, tall and lanky, awkward in every way. Next to him under his arm was a sniffling Carrie dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her Harvard sweatshirt. She wore it constantly even though she’d never have even a fleeting hope of ever attending Harvard. A gasp escaped her lips as she looked up at him, eyebrows raised in disgust. “Charlie! How are you dry-eyed, I’m bawling! Do you even have a heart in there?” Charlie’s continued to stare at the television screen, the white lines blurred together as the continue to roll up the screen. Why do you need tears to measure one’s sadness? Charles always wondering this, but never had the nerve to say it aloud. Instead he shrugged at her and turned the channel.

Doe
Charles had only gone on two trips in his entire life. One was his Honeymoon to The Bahamas, which turned out to be a disaster when Carrie contracted food poisoning. The other was a trip out west to Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho with a group of twenty something hiking fanatics and earth science freaks. One afternoon, he had gotten separated from his friends during a trip to Yellowstone. Confused, he walked around the hiking path searching for them. He approached a clearing in the woods and came across a group of deer.
The deer remained unaware of his presence as they grazed beside a pond. They were creatures of wonder with their necks bent elegantly as they begin to drink from the crystal clear pond. Charles felt a strange fascination and kinship with the delicate creatures. Just like him, they were detached. In that instant, a doe looked up at him, water still dripping from her mouth. If Charles squinted his eyes, he’d even say that the doe was crying. Not your typical sad tears, but tears of happiness.

It’s Okay To Cry
His mothers careful hand caressed his back. Slow but secure, her touch was comforting. “It’s okay Charles...” she whispered, her caring eyes searing into his dark ones. She wasn’t saying it aloud, but he knew what she meant. She wanted him to know that it was okay to cry. A familiar feeling of shame swept over Charles as the image of his fathers reproachful glare danced around in the deep confines of his memory. They sat in matching black plastic chairs in a non-descript hospital corridor. His fingers traced the worn edges of his gold wedding band. “It’s okay,” she murmured again through tears. She continued to mumble and pray, more to herself than to him Charles turned away from her, still twiddling his wedding ring in his blood stained fingers. Images of her motionless in her tub, red water spilling over the sides flood his memory. Looking into the mirror hung carelessly on the wall, he could see his reflection. In it he saw a stranger, pallid and covered in blood, eyes dry and no tears in sight. Tears had gotten him no where. No matter how hard he cried in the rain, she wouldn’t come back. No matter how hard he cried with her limp body in his arms, she wouldn’t come back. No... He didn’t need tears anymore. He didn’t need to cry to let her know that his heart was breaking in two.

Grave
The wind rustled through his dark hair as his fingers traced her name in grim acceptance.

Tears stained his cheeks.