When he cries, no one notices. He’s very silent, still like the wind passing by a closed window.
When he cries, his eyes melt within seconds and his sadness leaves wet marks on his face.
Tonight he cries, but he never meant to wake her.
She could feel his trembling hands gripping the sheets, pulling them up a little. The light from the bathroom fell through a crack in the door, peeping at the man who tried to cry himself back to the dreams that woke him.
Very slowly, she turned around, her one hand stroking through his long hair, hearing him stifle a sob.
“It’s ok…” she hushed him, her lips pressing small kisses along his collarbone. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He didn’t want anyone to know about the bad dreams he had at night. He was terrified even to be sleeping together with her in this bed, his deepest emotions lying so naked next to her.
But somehow, he let it all go. Through all the fear, he trusted her. In all his pain, he loved her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his shaky body clinging to hers.
“I’m here,” she whispered back.