on tears

Thanks for all the lovely comments, thoughts, virtual hugs and prayers. I'm doing OK. The dissertation's going a little better (I actually wrote something yesterday). I'm still feeling a bit mixed up and confused over stuff, but I'm plodding through it.

I've noticed in the last year or so I cry more than I used to. I didn't use to cry much. Maybe once a year, at most, if I got really upset or angry about something. When I was depressed, last year, I couldn't cry for months and months. I wanted to, but the tears wouldn't come. There was one weekend that broke that. I want away with my church for a regional weekend away over the August Bank Holiday. There was one seminar on that weekend (on singleness) which had me bawling by the end and I then spent rather a lot of the worship times of the next few meetings howling with sobs. Somehow lots of dammed up emotions and tears came out that weekend and I felt much better, if exhausted at the end of it. That made some difference to my ability to cry, but not as much it seems, as Rob.

I've noticed since I've been going out with Rob that I'm much more likely to cry when I'm upset than I was before. That's not as negative as it sounds. Yes, I have cried about him a few times, but more often I'm crying on his shoulder rather than at him. The former is because he's so important to me that something going wrong between us makes me very upset and the latter is because I can be vulnerable with him. I feel safe to cry in front of him and know that he'll comfort me. I know he doesn't like it when I cry and he doesn't always understand why I'm crying about something. (Sometimes, neither do I). But he'll always hug me and tell me he loves me and that it's going to be all right, and I feel comforted and safe and loved.

I love you, my Rob. Even, or perhaps especially, through my tears.