Precious Tears

Why don’t we cry? Because it makes us weak? Targetable? Undesirable? Because it makes our eyes red, sore, swollen, our noses congested and uncomfortable? Or because we are losing the ability to feel? I would love to cry, but now, I seem to cry too much, and then not enough. My tears are wasted on what I want and can’t get, on anger, and then I have no more to spend on the important things: sorrow, beauty, love, and war. Tears are precious. They are like gold: we spend them on the things that matter to us. But what happens when our priorities are changed? What happens when one careless generation has not raised its progeny correctly? Our tears still flow, but not for the same reasons. When someone is gone, we do not cry anymore. It’s always, “They would want us to be happy,” and we forget that we cry as a memorial to them. Too deeply I have drunk from the chalice of stillness that erases my emotions. I am learning to cry again, but it is painful, and I do not always cry for the right reasons. I would hope that people cry for me when I am gone. I would like them to remember me and be sad that I’m gone. Yes, I want them to be happy, but I want them to be sorry that I’m gone. I’m not a flower, here one day and gone the next, replaced by a thousand more. I am something more unique and long-lasting, but still only here long enough for you to realize how much I mean to you before I am taken away. Will you cry? Will you be sorry that I’m gone? Did I mean that much to you, or am I that person who never wanted anyone to ever cry? Do you want me to cry for you? I will, of course. I just need to learn to feel my emotions again.