There's a stranger sitting across from me on the train. She's young, pretty. Facing me, across the table between the seats, but looking out the window. She doesn't acknowledge me at all — fine by me, I'm painfully shy around strangers.

She looks like she's going to cry.

It's hard to describe what it is about her expression that has me sure she's going to cry, and not just one of those people who look sad when they're not, or someone with really bright eyes. She doesn't really look upset, just sad and tired and worn-down, like she's been working too hard. Her mouth is pulled into a tense little line, less like a frown and more like she's trying to keep her lips from trembling.

She's definitely tearing up now. Her eyes look so full that I keep expecting the tears to fall, but they haven't yet. Her eyes just keep welling up with tears, beading on her lashes. I've never understood the turn of phrase eyes swimming with tears before, but hers really are, completely glossed over and shiny, visible pools of tears in both eyes, barely managing to not spill over.

The first tear overflows down her right cheek, right from the middle of her eye, trailing right down to her chin and dripping off. It lands on the sweater she's wearing, leaving an obvious damp spot. Another tear follows the same path, and drips another spot onto her sweater.

Then she blinks, and the tears seem to fall all at once. Most of the tears on the right side flow down the same path, pouring in a steady stream from the middle of her eye to her chin and dripping steadily onto her sweater. But a few tears don't follow the path, overflowing from each corner of her eye, trailing down her face.

On the left side, there's no established track for the tears to follow. They spill over in a deluge, uncountable, some rolling down her cheek and some falling straight down, landing on her sweater and her lap.

Her eyes are already filled with tears again, falling quicker now that the dam's been broken. I can

H: sorry, going to have to take a raincheck on tonight, i'm not fit for human company today LOL.

C: that's fine! i was pretty tired from work anyway. are you doing okay?

H: so me and jason broke up like. last week, right? i told you that whole story.
H: it was amicable and all that, we both knew way before we made it official that it wasn't really working? we're just not right for each other as anything more than friends, yknow how it goes sometimes.
H: but he just finished moving all his stuff out to his buddy's place last night.
H: i have no joke no exaggeration been crying for the entire. day.

C: aw, honey

H: i'm fine! i'm literally fine i didn't even want him to stay, it's so nice to have the place to myself again.
H: i guess the fact that it's such a big change is what's getting to me.

C: do you want to talk about it?

H: i don't know what's even there to talk about, i'm just a mess.
H: this isn't the kind of breakup that people cry about. it's literally fine.
H: (i say, when my pillow looks like this)
[a picture of a pillow with several visible wet patches in various stages of drying]

C: maybe talking through the day will help you process it?

H: maybe
H: i guess it started last night, the couch was getting all piled up with his stuff so we were still sharing, and then he left last night and it was so... quiet. and still. and empty. i was curled up on on the far side like there was still someone with me but i knew there wasn't.
H: i get crying about that, it was. weird. and lonely.

C: yeah, that makes sense.

H: i haven't cried myself to sleep since i was a kid. speaking of weird!!
H: but then i woke up this morning and i just.
H: rolled over on my back and looked over at the other side of the bed and got all choked up just seeing the empty pillow.
H: i was fine for a bit, i got up and made coffee and had breakfast and then in the shower (cause i still thought i could get my life together enough to go out tonight, LOL) i started crying again
H: it was l

Anya is still standing in the middle of the room when the door opens, her partner stepping inside and closing the door behind himself. He pauses, taking in the filming setup, clearly not as accustomed to being on camera as Anya. Then he steps up beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest, murmuring soothingly, his voice too low for the microphone to pick up his exact words, just the low rumble of his voice.

"Nick," Anya sobs, burying her face in his shoulder, gripping the hem of his shirt in her hands as he holds her, one palm in the center of her back, the other sliding down her side to her hip and the top of her thigh, clearly taking in the way her body trembles against his.

Nick keeps his eyes closed as Anya sobs against his shoulder, his cheek resting against her hair as he comforts her. He only lifts his head when her sobs soften and she shifts away. There's a visible patch of damp where her face was pressed into his shirt.

As Anya hiccups through her quieting sobs, Nick cradles her face in his hands, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, before leaning in and kissing the last of the dampness from under her eyes. "Thank you," Anya murmurs, her voice husky from sobbing. Nick kisses her, then kisses her forehead, squeezes her sides, and steps back.

Nick leaves the room, closing the door behind him again, and Anya sits back down in front of the camera. Her face is red and flushed, her eyes watery but not overflowing anymore. She takes a sip of water, smiling at the camera. Her eyelashes are clumped together from crying. "Hope you all enjoyed that. Any more requests for me?"

hello!! welcome to the forum. i'm a fellow fan of animated crying, it's a less common angle of the fetish, i've found, but it's a big favorite of mine.

reptongeek wrote:

"Hello Anya. Could you tie your long hair back in a low ponytail? I love it as a hairstyle so much"

Anya obligingly gathers her hair back, pulling it into a ponytail. She plays with the ends for a few minutes, eyes half-closed, tears flowing steadily down her cheeks, dripping onto her hands and running down her arms where they're tucked against her chest, fingers combing through her own hair.

The crying slows for a moment, Anya's face streaked with half a dozen separate tear tracks she makes no effort to wipe away, a few stray tears dripping from her chin. She's still for a moment, then her expression crumples and she sobs, fresh tears flooding her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. It's hard to make out the individual tracks anymore, her face so wet with tears from constant crying. She breathes deeply for a few moments, tears still falling, resisting the sobs. When her breath is a little steadier, she leans in again, to read the next message aloud.

Amans lacrimae wrote:

"Anya, you look stunningly beautiful with several thick streaks adorning your cheeks, you know, you got the romantic side out of me. Are you alone or is there anyone at home with you? I mean, it would be a memory to keep forever if you had a brother o a cousin wipe and maybe even kiss your tears from your cheeks. Well, I guess that's too much to ask, but since you are sharing your tears to the world, I don't think you would mind people seeing you cry in person."

"I'm home alone right now, but my partner's getting home in a little while," Anya says, her voice breaking around the words. She picks up her phone. "I'll ask him. I'm sure he won't mind." She smiles faintly as she taps out a message on her phone. As she hits send, a huge tear splashes onto the screen, then another. She wipes the screen on her shirtsleeve, leaving a damp streak, and sets it down. A sob hitches through her, shaking her shoulders. "Any more requests, while we wait?"