Let those tears flow. Freely.
Tears of joy. Of sorrow. Of gratitude. Of despair. Of fond memories. Of all that is and has been. Of all that never was and never will be.
Here I am. On the train. Watching an episode from the third season of I am Anne (of Greengables) on Netflix and I am letting those tears flow. Freely. Because why not? What do I care if others think me odd or weird? I don’t.
What is it to me if others think me brave for showing my emotions (without drama. No intrusion unto others bar the fact that I may be sniveling a wee bit, dabbing my eyes dry now and again)? A gift. From me.
What do I care that I will be going to work with slightly puffed eyes? Well. I don’t. I am human. And proud of it. What better way to show my humanity than letting my tears flow in a moment when tears are what I have, what I am?