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         There were tears. It’s gravity, nobody could stop it. Not even him. But there is a big difference when you’re sulking in your room and drowning a pain which can swim its way out anyway and when someone shows up at your door, offers the expanse of his dry chest for water, a newly-washed hankerchief only for you to spoil. The pain swims then, out and little or nothing of it crawls back to your bed back when he leaves.

I wonder how anyone could be shameful of crying,   when it’s so good to feel how a heart pounds next to your ears in synchrony with the drop of tears, to be made to feel better about feeling bad, to feel loved when it’s all the wealth you could possibly ever want in the world.

Salamat para kay Jigs.                                                       
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