I watch you all cry, wet tissues, heads on shoulders, runny makeup. You see me, dry eyes, impassive face and ask me if I have emotions. I do have emotions. The smallest things used to move me to tears. I cried towards you all, poured out all of my emotions. I was sensitive, not weak, but was seen as such. I had no shoulder to cry on, no tissue to hide my emotions, just the view of your impassive faces.