I don't cry.
When I was a kid it seemed like I cried everyday. My father made me cry, my teachers, the other kids...... I felt like a fool for giving them the satisfaction of seeing my tears. It's wrong for a kid to be made to deal with so much hostility. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and hold that little boy. Take some of the pain away. But I can't and my memories will always be of that little guy crying himself to sleep.
Somewhere along the way I decided that enough was enough. No more tears. It made me weak and that was something I could not afford to be. So I learned to condition away the urge to cry. All it really took was a deep breath and a healthy dose of spite. I would mentally poison whoever it was that hurt me - Store away the feeling for a time I could use it as a weapon against the bastards.
That must have been around the time I was 13 or 14.
I am 28 now and I am unable to cry.
Sure, I can pour out some tears every single time I see ET.... I can handle crying in response to another person's grief. But for me? Never. Eric doesn't cry. I bottle up. I talk. I dress one issue up to look like another, mask one feeling for another...... however I have to shift the focus away from that need to release.
Sometimes, like tonight, I desperately need to cry.
But there are no tears.
There is no release.
Might as well jerk off.