Tears full of anger

I’m not a crier. Never have been. It takes a lot to break me down. I learned early that crying only made the bruises worse, so I trained myself not

Even after all these years, I’m still wired the same way. It takes so much to get me

I don’t cry over sadness. Not over flashbacks or trauma. Not over cutting or pain. Someone hurts my feelings? Still not gonna cry.

But anger—real anger—that’s different. Not the small shit. I mean betrayal, lies, destruction done to make someone else look good. That’s when I cry.

And I hate it. Because it makes me into someone I don’t like, someone hateful. And once the tears start, they don’t stop. They go until I’m drained, until I crash from the exhaustion.

Tonight is one of those nights . And I hate this part of me.