I Hate Crying

I remember being in the car with my grandmother for an hour holding it in, not saying anything; it burning in my throat. I made it to the house without cracking, and then my mom called, to lecture me about something else. So I listen to it silently with my mind completely somewhere else, the words just going in one ear and out the other and she asked why wasn't saying anything. I thought I had it under control and tried to talk but I just inhaled sharply and let out a cry. "Sh*t" is all I thought. It's even harder to stop it once you start. So I had to text her what was the matter because I could talk. "Because I let it happen" is what I texted. Then she tried to comfort me and also told my grandmother I was upset and crying and that was the reason I wasn't talking and in my room in the dark for hours. And, oh my god, whenever something happens in this family, everyone knows within 5 minutes. (Puerto Ricans) And one by one, another family member would try to comfort of talk to me, which I f*cking hated. I know they mean well, but it was f*cking embarrassing and I was pissed. I hated them knowing and hated myself for crying, not being able to hold it down, and letting it happen.