Finding Comfort in crying
There was a time when my tears were rare, when pain was swallowed whole, and silence was my only refuge. I was never one to cry over small wounds — neither the ones on my skin nor the ones buried deep within. I believed that strength was measured by the absence of tears, that resilience meant holding everything together, even when the weight of the world pressed down on my chest.But then life happened.And life, in its unforgiving way, tore through the walls I had built. It frayed me in ways I ne...
