I don’t know where tears come from.  I know there’s not a deep pool of salty water inside, patiently waiting.  I do know that tears need to come out in order to raise my heart out of a deep pool of sadness.  I never intentionally plunge my heart into that pool, but it ends up there at times, and if I don’t stop its descent, the sadness will force itself up on its own when it reaches rock bottom.  I remember being asked to hold in my tears at a funeral, but that’s not right.  The sadness has to come out.  It can come out as anger or depression, which just disperses the pain throughout the body and spills it out onto others.  Some people throw alcohol or drugs at it like a life preserver that keeps the heart afloat but never gets it out of the pool.  I’ve shed quiet tears, quick tears, recurring tears, sobbing tears, silent tears, spontaneous tears, and tears that go on and on and on.  Whether it’s possible to let the sadness out all at once or over time, my tears are the means to drain the pool and save my heart from drowning.


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