“Don’t cry now,” Will whispered. “I can’t help it. It’s so freaking sweet.” Will shook his head and looked heavenward. “You need to get plugs in your tear ducts or something.” It wasn’t a bad idea. I cried at everything. Sad tears. Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. Angry tears. It was as if whenever I had an emotional overload—which was often—the release valve was my eyeballs.
same
