I have been fantasizing lately about someone who just can’t stop crying so have this, as an obs I wish I could have. =) A Little long but I like them like that
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My friend came over to hang out last night. He’s been having a rough few months so we figured let’s get together and get his mind off it. In hindsight, we really didn’t succeed with that. Towards the end of the night, we decided to watch a movie since we were bored. We had no ideas so we elected to just pick a random one off a streaming service that looked good, not really understanding what it was about.
Unfortunately, it ended up being about something very similar to what he’s had going on, and hitting pretty close to home. When I realized where the movie was going I kept glancing over at him nervously. But he didn’t say anything or react, and I didn’t want to be the one to say something, so we let the movie play. His eyes seemed to get shiny, but I could’ve been projecting that onto him, assuming this topic should make him emotional. About halfway through he took the pillow I’d laid out for him -in case it got late and he had to sleep on my couch- and held it in his arms for comfort. I didn’t acknowledge it, I didn’t wanna embarrass him.
As it was getting to the climax, a tear actually made it out of his eye. And then two. Then three. It felt like I had looked away from him to watch the movie for a second, and when I looked back the tears were streaming down both his cheeks, dripping off his chin onto the pillow. Although there was a clear effort to swallow it, every now and again there was a little whine he couldn’t hold back. By the end of the movie he was quietly crying, pressing his mouth to the pillow to prevent himself from making any more noise than absolutely necessary. I let the credits roll on the screen for a while expecting him to try and compose himself before I looked over, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, maybe. So I turned it off, and turned to him.

“You liked this one huh?” I said it lightly, to try and diffuse the emotional tension.
He opened his mouth to try to answer me but instead what came out was just a sob, and he put his head into the pillow to hide himself. He tried to stop himself and apologized, but tears kept coming and let out muffled soft sobs in the pillow. He gasped subtly, trying to regain himself and get the air back in his lungs. I was sort of taken aback. He’s not usually a crier. But I got past my stunned reaction to put a hand on his arm in support. I tried to mumble something about how it’s okay and don’t be embarrassed, I wasn’t prepared and it was just generic comfort. He kept making soft crying sounds, refusing to open his mouth and let out another sob, instead pressing himself against the pillow.

When I got him to briefly look up, I asked if it was more about his personal stuff than the movie and he nodded weakly. I asked if he wanted to talk about it. He seemed to think about it for a second and said “No. I think… I think I just want to cry. Is that weird?” I told him I don’t think so at all, and put my arms up inviting him to hug me, which he did. He practically threw himself at me, put his arms around me and buried his face in my shoulder, starting to cry again.
After I’d given him “permission” he was comfortable allowing himself to cry harder and his whines got progressively louder and more intense. I rubbed his back as he had a death grip on the back of my sweater.
When he pulled away his face was red and splotchy, completely wet with tears. His hand trembled as he grabbed aimlessly for the pillow again, uncomfortable that he didn’t have anything to hold on to. When he got it into his arms again he hugged it tightly and rested his chin on the top of it.

There was a moment of poignant silence before he glanced back at me. He quickly looked away again though, thinking if he made eye contact he’d have to speak. Instead he blinked the tears out his wet lashes and waited for me to say something. I didn’t either. I just put my hand on his cheek and gently wiped his tears away. He still refused to look at me, so I assured him it’s okay and I told him already I don’t mind this. Tears seemed to be pooling up in his eyes, nearly overflowing. When he blinked again they leaked out in big streaks across both his cheeks, flowing down to form a damp spot on the pillow. I delicately loosen the grip of one of his hands on the pillowcase to hold it between both of mine. Though I continue to fail to get eye contact from him, I continue to look sincerely at him. When he brought himself to look back at me, his lip curled and his eyes squinted in anticipation of what he couldn’t hold back again. He burst back into tears, clinging to the pillow as he buried his face again. I just held his hand while he cried his eyes out for what felt like forever. He’d have moments of breathing clearly before breaking back down into sobs. After what honestly could’ve been any length of time, he brought his head back up revealing a huge wet spot on the pillow. He ran his fingers over the stain absentmindedly, as I’d he needed proof he was really crying this much. He said some more half hearted apologies that I shut down, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The steady stream of tears now dripped onto his neck instead, wetting the collar of his shirt.
He finally muttered something about cleaning himself up, and  stormed off to the kitchen without really explaining himself. I followed him but stayed at a distance, leaving me standing in the hallway between the two rooms, watching him.

He took a towel and wet it with cold water from the sink, wiping his face off with it. He figured it’d be like splashing cold water on your face, but he could take it with him to the living room. He pressed it against his eyes, enjoying the sensation of cool against his burning face, but as soon as he took the towel off the tears flowed unhindered again and were once again all over his face. He pressed it against his eyes again, and yet again the tears were back as soon as he stopped. I could tell he was getting really frustrated that it wasn’t achieving anything, and when he tried again he finally gave up and cried uninhibited into the towel, putting his elbows on the kitchen counter. He wiped it across his face a couple times, making no progress. If anything, all he did was warm up the towel with his tears.

When he looked up again, he seemed to snap back to reality and remember he wasn’t alone, which embarrassed him.
“That usually works” he muttered as he accepted the towel was useless and tossed it to the side, coming into the living room again.

He stopped to look at himself in the mirror on the way back in and his face instantly contorted into that about-to-sob expression he kept making through the night. He mumbled in a high pitched tone “Oh I look like such a mess.” He sniveled. “I can’t believe I’m making you look at that.”
I wiped the tears off his cheek with my thumb and said he looks adorable like this, and not to worry. His shoulders shook in a successfully suppressed sob, and he looked at me with glassy eyes.
“Seriously, tell me to stop.”
I reply “You shouldn’t stop until you get the relief you need.” and pull him back into my arms for another wave of sobs. I intended to put him against my shoulder again, but while he allowed the hug he stayed turned to the side. Still. I ran my thumb across the back of his shoulder, holding him still while he bawled into his own hands. Now that he was standing up the movement in his torso became more apparent, and I watched his shoulders and back convulse while he let out heaving, loud sobs. It was as if it had taken his body over and for every pained sound he let out he exhaled the entire contents of his lungs. He had to fight to catch his breath. It got over him enough he had to take his hands off his face to get all the air he could. It almost sounded like hyperventilating, at points. The struggle to breathe eventually forced him to calm down as he was getting dizzy. He pulled away from me to go lean against the edge of the sofa for balance.

“You know, maybe you should just go to bed so I can cry myself to sleep.” He chuckled at the absurdity of what he said, but he was only half kidding. It was late at this point and he was worn out from all his crying. It wasn’t a terrible idea. Sleeping it off might be the only thing that could make him feel “finished” with this breakdown.

I sat at the far end of the couch and put his already soaked pillow in my lap, explaining I’ll sit with him until he falls asleep. He hesitantly laid down , sprawling out across the couch and laid his head on the pillow.
“It’s still wet.” He laughed. I offered to flip it over, but he said he doesn’t mind, and cuddled up to it to make himself comfortable.

His crying slowed as he took intentional deep breaths, now leaving more of a high pitched whimper than the previous wailing.
The tears rolled from his closed eyes across the bridge of his nose. He was able to fall asleep quickly, to my surprise. It wasn’t long until his shaky breaths stabilized and the tears stopped. He was still rosy, and his cheeks were still wet, but finally he looked peaceful. I kissed the top of his head, out of habit more than anything, and carefully took the pillow off my lap and stood up off the couch, leaving him there. I looked around and grabbed a blanket to drape on top of him which seemed appropriate, and left the room to go to bed myself.

Last edited by Daydream (September 24, 2025 10:05 pm)