In the middle of the song he looked at me grave faced, such a contrast to the upbeat sound that it took me by surprise and even before I reached to turn the volume down he had begun to speak, words spilling out of his mouth like he couldn’t hold them in any longer.

“I can’t cry anymore. Isn’t that the most juvenile thing you’ve ever heard? It actually makes me wince thinking it but I had to say it out loud to somebody just to see how ridiculous it sounded in another persons presence”.

He hesitated, then said it again, this time pausing to punctuate the sound of each syllable as though he were savouring it.

“I. Can’t. Cry. Any. More. I used to cry for myself a lot, you know? More than I did for anyone else. I suppose that’s selfish, but I think that it’s probably the case for a lot of people”.

He grimaced again for a second before his mouth curled in to a small smile, dark humour creeping in to the light of his eyes.

“I hope it is, anyway. And then one day, I just woke up and realised that even though I felt as though I wanted to, had that scratchy feeling behind my eyes and a crushing weight in my gut all I could do was lie there and think about the fact that I couldn’t cry. Isn’t that pathetic? All I want to do is curl up in to a ball and cry my eyes out and I can’t”.