The worst type of crying

The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see–the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like us(“us” here includes me and all my lovely supporting friends at the suicideproject website) our souls contained more scar tissue than life.