Tears

Sitting at my desk
crying.
Not sobbing my heart out over something
of great import,
not bewailing a lost love,
grave injustice or recently departed.
Just ... crying.
Tears stream, dripping
off my cheeks
as they flow unimpeded,
plopping on my desk,
blurring some inked note to mere smudge.

No recognizable reason.
Just suddenly, tears overflowed;
tidal wave of emotion unnamed.

Blue, I guess, though
not depressed. In fact,
I've had a really good day.
A day full of smiles and laughter.
Yet, here I sit,
typing underwater,
can hardly read the screen.
Feel like screaming because
I should know why
I've chosen just now to cry.

But I don't.

A strong hand on my shoulder, squeezes gently.
You okay? Need a hug?
I nod. He does.
He doesn't ask for specifics.
He's just there, a human blotter.
I really love you.
You'll be okay.

And I will.
The waterfall has subsided;
the last few tears only happy ones.
He gets my odd moods,
he gets me. Like a shade
lifted, my heart lightens, brightens.

Still, don't know why I was
or what sparked the flash and burn.
I am not a crier. I don't weep.
And I don't like the not knowing.
I sigh, take offered tissue,
wipe away the deluge.

You okay now?
The few times I've seen you cry
feels like my heart
had a tear in it.

Now I offered the hug
promising no more tears.
Then write these last lines.