Afterparty for Sad People

the tri-colour girl winced at his first words with a little more than sympathy. Helplessness was something she was painfully familiar with. The very concept, the theory that anyone else could feel as small as her, was enough to make her crumble. This was her burden to bear, not anyone else's, and certainly not this polite young man's. She made an effort to repress the response, but it was difficult.

She moved to sit with her belly on the sand, in anticipation of a longer conversation.
"It often is." She murmured in response to his first remark, looking to her right for a moment so he wouldn't see her barely fighting back tears, and she returned her eyes to find that he was doing the same, at least she assumed so. "You can cry if you need to. You're not failing anyone if you do." A sentiment that she refused to apply to herself.