Frankly Told: Boys Don’t Cry
The room was a little cold, it had been, all day with no signs of warming up. The clouds had made a home of the sky but did not let up on any rain.
He unbuttoned his collar and loosened the already loose tie around his neck, which had begun to feel like a noose and restricted his breathing that came in sobs. He wanted to shout but he could only bite his tongue and whimper. Outside the door, he could hear people walking back and forth with murmurs here and there. He had never liked how his family gathered and packed itself like sardines in their little bungalow outside the city, but they had a reason at least this time.
Somehow, this sorrow balanced between anger and pain. The tears formed in his eyes but refused to stream down his face, blurring his vision. His belly felt hot. His muscles tensed and relaxed uncomfortably. His mind was flustered with a million racing thoughts. As he battled with his body, there was a knock on the door. He quickly swiped at his tears with the sleeves of his blazer as the door slowly swung open. When he looked to the door, he could only see a fuzzy silhouette but he knew who it was.
“My boy,” his grandfather started as he stepped into the room. “Is everything okay in here?”
“Y-yes.” He responded, trying to seem calm.
His grandfather’s eyes narrowed and he shut the door behind him. He walked over and gestured to make room. Once it had been made, he slowly sunk into the bed and heaved in relief. He wondered what his grandfather wanted as he sat in silence with his hands on his knees staring at the wall ahead of him, coated in a sick Kikuyu Gothic purple.
“You know, something I wish I learnt was, it is okay to cry sometimes.” He spoke gently.
“I wasn’t crying.” He argued.
“Ah, I see. So the red eyes must be from smoking, no?” He threw snidely and turned to face him. “ I don’t know which one you think better for me to assume.”
Defeated, he could only give a weak smile to his grandfather’s attempt to make him laugh.
“I won’t judge you as much as you think I would.” The grandfather turned back to the wall and continued. “In fact, I can admit that were I in your shoes, I don’t think I would contain myself.”
“But you are,” he pointed out.
“No no,” his grandfather said. “Something I have come to learn, losing a daughter and losing a mother, not the same thing. They are both difficult but they hurt in different ways, I will give you that.”
“H-How did you deal?” He hesitated. “When… You know?”
“Who said I have dealt?” His grandfather questioned in a deadpan tone.
“Oh,” was all he could respond.
“I wish for the strength to cry. I fear, those days are long gone behind me.” his grandfather scoffed.
He was left to marinate in his thought by that statement. What was he to say to this man? Were there any sympathies to offer someone beyond him in years? It slowly came to his realization, his tears were gone but the sadness sat in his belly like a boulder. So it seems, a similar weight hung over his grandfather’s shoulders.
“But a man shouldn’t cry, right?” He offered a consolation.
“Where did you hear that from?” His grandfather asked most curiously.
“I don’t know, everyone.” He answered.
His grandfather only smiled and shook his head slowly.
“Why don’t you tell me why a man shouldn’t cry? Why do you think so?” his grandfather turned and looked him in the eyes.
“Um, because it can be seen as weak. Tough men don’t cry,” he said.
“So tell me,” he began, “Am I not a tough man because I wish to cry?”
Stunted, he opened his mouth to speak but shut it shortly after. How could he shoot down this great man that sat before him with such logic? His grandfather’s greying eyes looked on at him, trying to collect whatever thoughts he had to justify, with no judgement.
“My boy, listen,” his grandfather jumped in after silence answered his question. “I am an old man, I do not have a care for being tough. If tears make me weak then so be it. This world favours no one either way.”
“That said,” he inhaled deeply, “It concerns me that this is how you see the world. I do not blame you for it, I live in the same society and I can understand where that thought would come from. We all wish to be strong. Tough as nails even. That is the only way to be a man, we say but that is flawed thought.”
His grandfather placed a hand on his shoulder and for the first time, he felt the weight behind the man. His face read more than strength, it had sadness, it had a concern, it had care and it looked human.
“Boys don’t cry, humans do.” His grandfather spoke. “If there is something I can tell you it is that. Now, I do not expect you to leave this room in tears. I do not expect you to be hysterical when you do either. Do this old man a favour though.”
He held his breath.
“You will accept when you feel things and cry as you need to.” His grandfather said. “The world doesn’t need to know but you need to.”
He nodded his head obediently and his grandfather took his hand off his shoulder. Breathing in deeply, the old man struggled to his feet with a groan and huffed when he got to the top. Checking that he was stable, he turned back to his grandson.
“Now, take a few minutes, collect yourself and come out there and give that speech you prepared. You did prepare one, didn’t you?” his grandfather inquired, with an eyebrow raised.
“I was supposed to?” He asked in soft shock.
His grandfather only laughed in response as we hobbled to the door.
