When Tears Hurt
Cry if you must, men. Tears hurt when we hold them back.
This crying thing is not a woman thing; it’s a human thing. We can believe real men cry. We can believe real men don’t. What’s absolute is real men go through some heavy, heavy stuff, man. So let us not be machines here. Let us be men and if we are men who cry, I suggest some company. Tears hurt when we shed them by ourselves.
To any man who can’t remember the last time they cried, keep the streak alive as long as you can. Be blessed in the pursuit. Tears hurt when they’re unfamiliar. Take it from me, a self-admitted crier who has seen other men of the age of facial hair and being addressed as Mr. cry, the tears of grown men shock and awe. Those tears are the maps to the foreign places of a man’s heart and when we see them, we know we have never been there before and he probably hasn’t either.
Still we can’t be afraid to go where the maps say. Nor can we be too prideful to ask for directions on how to get out. Just let the tears go. Crying is not a gauge to measure one’s manhood it’s a gauge to measure the magnitude of what just happened. And if what happened moved us to tears, let us not dodge. Just let the tears go.
Men are taught not to cry, never taught how to deal with life’s greatest joys and greatest pains. Men are taught tears don’t bring people back and they don’t make people stay, just asked why even cry about it in the first place?
Well, I cry because I’m not a machine.
I’m a man.
Tears hurt when I hold them back.