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November 26, 2022 12:47 am  #1


Lily sighs heavily, leaning her elbow against the arm of the couch and propping her chin on it, tucking her feet up under herself, shifting slightly to get comfortable.

The movie playing quietly on the TV has already rolled into the credits, but Lily keeps staring at the screen, her vision blurry with tears. She'd known the movie would make her cry — stories about families always get to her. She'd expected the tears that had fallen during the last half hour of the movie, dripping steadily down her cheeks and off her chin, just now starting to dry. Quiet tears that she hadn't bothered to wipe away, her breath occasionally hitching into the beginnings of a sob before it settled again. That hadn't been a surprise, though the fact that it hadn't stopped for the whole thirty minutes of the climax, only tapering off well into the credits, had been somewhat unusual.

Still, she expects that to be it. It's not a particularly weepy movie, just sad enough to get her going.

But as the credits keep rolling, fresh tears start to well up. There's an ache in her chest, not alleviated by the movie's bittersweet ending, or the crying she's already done. Lily shifts the hand supporting her chin and touches the corner of her eye contemplatively, and a tear slips off her lashes and run downs her finger. A quiet sob shakes her, and something wrenches in her chest. A few more teardrops stream directly from her eyelashes and down her hand, pooling in the curve of her palm before dripping down her wrist. A tear falls from her other eye, trickling down her cheek before dripping onto her lap.

The music over the credits eases into a slow, gentle instrumental, undeniably melancholy. The tears start to flow in earnest, a steady stream down the palm of her hand and trailing down her wrist. Lily sobs again, her eyes briefly squeezing shut. She feels the tears start to roll down the cheek not covered by her hand, first just one track from the center of her eye, quickly starting to drip off her chin, and then another from the outer corner, trailing over her cheek and down her neck.

Lily sits up and reaches out, half-blinded by tears, and grabs a pillow from beside her on the couch, hugging it under her chin with both arms. Tears immediately start to soak into it, streaming down both cheeks as sobs start to shake through her, stomach and shoulders quaking with each tearful spasm.

The music stops as the credits end, sending the movie back to the title screen. Lily stares through the blur of tears at the screen for a moment before pressing her face into the pillow, muffling her voice as her sobs get heavier, shaking her whole body, tears soaking into the pillow. She draws her knees up to her chest, curling into herself as she cries.

Eventually, the sobbing tapers off, and Lily lifts her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. There's an impressive damp patch on the pillow already, so she doesn't feel bad about wiping her face on it again, trying to clean the mess of tears from her cheeks.

Not that it accomplishes much — the sobs might have settled to quiet hitches in her throat, but she's still crying just as hard, tears trickling in fresh streaks and dripping from her chin even as she sets the pillow aside and goes to stand up. As she walks over to the kitchen, the tears become a steady stream, falling from her cheeks and chin and splashing onto the front of her sweatshirt.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave as she fills a glass with water, Lily guesses she's been crying for another twenty minutes, on top of the thirty she spent quietly weeping as the movie played. And she's still going, tears splashing onto the kitchen tile at her feet.

Lily hiccups her way through a few glasses of water, just to stave off a headache. When she's done, she picks up one of the kitchen towels and buries her face in it, a sob hitching through her chest. It's not long before her tears have soaked through the fabric, a deluge she can't stop now that it's started.

Finally giving up on drying her eyes, Lily tosses the towel over the edge of the sink and retreats back to the couch, all the progress she'd made with the towel quickly undone. By the time she sits down again, there are two steady streams of tears running from each eye, and a third starting at the corner of one, splashing tears onto her collarbone when she blinks.

She picks up the pillow she'd been crying into and rests her chin on it again, fresh tears falling onto the patch of damp. On a whim, she fumbles for the remote and queues up another sad movie — she's going to keep crying no matter what she does, she may as well justify it.

The movie's about ninety minutes long, and Lily cries through all of it. The first half is quiet, tears falling like rain onto the pillow in her arms, soaking it even further. By the time the movie actually hits tearjerker territory, Lily starts to sob right on cue, pressing her mouth against the pillow to muffle her voice. The screen blurs, but barely being able to see what's happening doesn't make the crying stop. Eventually, Lily buries her face in the pillow and sobs, her heart aching, the movie far less important than how badly she needs to cry.

Soon, Lily's right back where she started, soaking her pillow with tears as movie credits roll. She hiccups quietly, lifting her head from the damp patch she's left on the fabric. Her whole face is wet with tears, the individual streaks smeared by the way she'd pressed her face against the pillow. In just a few minutes, as she blinks dizzily at the screen, the tears have already settled into new tracks, streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto the soaked pillow.

She could stop, she realizes, once the credits have ended, and the tears have slowed to a steady trickle, the sobs settling to a hitch in her breath. She could stop crying, and go to bed, sleep off the ache and probably feel better in the morning.

But Lily doesn't want to stop crying. Her head and her chest and her eyes ache, she can't take a full breath without sobbing, and her face and neck are flushed red and streaked with tears. But she doesn't want to stop — she feels like she's being scrubbed clean, all the hurt in her chest washed out by the tears.

Before she's even conscious of deciding, Lily stands up and heads to the kitchen, filling up her water bottle, tears running down her neck and soaking into the collar of her shirt. She picks up the towel she cried into almost two hours ago — nearly dry now, but tacky with salt — and wipes her face dry with it, cleaning up her neck and chest. There are already more tears running down her cheeks by the time she finishes, but she decides it's good enough and goes back to the couch.

Lily takes a long swig from her water bottle and finds another movie she remembers from those long lists of tearjerkers, and settles in, hugging her soaked pillow to her chest, more tears dripping off her chin to add to the damp patch.

She'll either cry all night or until she's too exhausted to keep going. Whichever comes last.


November 26, 2022 1:27 am  #2

Re: Catharsis

Beautifully written, I love your very detailed description of her tears, her sobs and her body’s response. I’m glad you posted it. Have a beautiful weekend.


November 26, 2022 11:21 am  #3

Re: Catharsis

Absolutely stunningly beautiful story. I'm not one who's into females crying, you can tell as all my stories here are about guys crying. But this story is mesmerizing and both sad, beautiful, and heart wrenching. You're really great at giving specific details about tears without being repetitive and I thoroughly enjoyed this! I'd love to see a male version of this as well!


November 26, 2022 2:13 pm  #4

Re: Catharsis

Now that Cryiphilia adds she would like a male version, for me the cherry on the pie would have been if she was comforted and had her tears taken care of.


November 26, 2022 4:46 pm  #5

Re: Catharsis

Amans lacrimae wrote:

Now that Cryiphilia adds she would like a male version, for me the cherry on the pie would have been if she was comforted and had her tears taken care of.


I second that highly. But I loved all the feels. How everything seemed so real. How I could see and feel her every emotion like it was me who was crying instead of her. It was beautiful.


November 26, 2022 5:59 pm  #6

Re: Catharsis

Beautiful story. It makes me wish she was wrapped up in my arms weeping.

"Bless me now with your fierce tears..."

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