Tears Made Of Ink

I’ve been following this boy my whole life studying him, dissecting him. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with this boy but I came to find out that boy did not have emotions. He never cried, his laughs were always forced,  he was never able to love correctly no matter how good the woman was. He was confused, he was lost but you would never know that. I remember trying to figure out if he had emotions, or did he just bottle them up. I watched this boy open the presents he asked for but nothing came out but a fabricated chuckle. I watched this boy lose one of best friends but not a single tear fell. I watched this boy with girl after girl after girl but the same outcome happened every-time.  I watched this boy not feel anything not even guilt. And it perplexed me because I wanted to not feel. I wanted to be heartless but I could never figure out how this boy did it. I watched his mom grab his collar and shake him to feel something; anything! But he remained emotionless.  I watched this boy carry a notebook around but I never seen him write in it.    I went up to this boy finally fed up with this overwhelming curiosity this urging feeling to know how he does it. I grabbed him and I asked him, tell me how you do it! He pulled his arm out and ran. But he dropped his notebook. I wanted to tell him but instead I picked it up and furiously flipped the pages. I read everything word for word and I found my answer. I found that this boy was never emotionless he was just expressionless.  He laughed with words, he loved through poems, he felt guilt through written apologies. And he did cry, just all his tears were filled with ink...



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