I used to hate my tears

 I used to hate my tears.

They came without warning—
in the grocery store,
in the car,
in the quiet moments
when memory sat too heavily on my chest.

But slowly,
I realized something soft and unexpected:
these tears aren’t just grief.
They’re love,
returning to the surface
because it has nowhere else to go.

Every tear I shed for you
waters something inside me—
a little understanding,
a little strength,
a little hope
I didn’t know was there.

Losing you broke me open…
but in that opening,
something began to grow.
Something warm.
Something healing.

Maybe tears don’t just fall.
Maybe they plant things—
tiny seeds of courage,
soft buds of remembrance,
the first sprouts of hope
in a heart learning how to carry you gently.

You may be gone from my arms,
but your love is still growing in me.
And these tears…
they’re proof of that.