Can't cry.

Simple Me.

I am a pretty ordinary person. I don't have any extraordinary powers. I haven't received my Hogwarts letter. I didn't find a new world behind my closet. I wasn't selected as a tribute. And I am pretty sure Gandalf wouldn't be here to take me with him on an adventure when I am fifty. But I am still waiting, hoping actually.

There was an unusual smell in the air the day I made The resolution. I was twelve and had just been embarrassed and was crying hysterically in the washroom, knowing that if my parents found out I was crying they would scold me again.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Red eyes, red nose, but not one single drop of tear, despite the hysterical mess I was that day. No, I can't shed tears. It doesn't mean that I don't feel sad and can't cry. I just can't shed tears. Why? Well my parents didn't bother about a medical checkup.. so I don't know.
As I stared at my non-tear stained face, I made a resolution.
I won't cry.
I don't care if my parents scold me, taunt me or straight up insult me. I wouldn't give away. I took my disease-like ability as a sign. A sign telling me I wasn't born to cry.

Slowly but surely i began to overcome my emotions. Mother would rebuke me, taunt me and I wouldn't even glance in her way. I also found out that water helped me, calmed me. I would splash water on my face or even drink water and I would feel soothed.
It was going fine. Better than I expected actually. I was fine. Until I wasn't.

***
I am obsessed with Harry Potter Series, just so you know. I am a great reader and have read countless books, but Harry Potter just hits different.
My resolution was greatly supported by the fictional characters of these series in my imagination. My imagination. The literal thing I live for. Because if it wasn't for the nightly sessions of fighting with Voldemort or doing great magic, I wouldn't have survived.

I can't even remember the amount of time I have spent just staring at my bookshelf, hoping, just hoping that Draco, Harry, Ron and Hermione would come out of the books and tell me it will be alright. Or Hazel Grace would visit me and I'll let her cry with me as we mourn Augustus' death. Or maybe Katniss will take me with her trying to survive the battles she was facing.

But they wouldn't come.

I called and called till my throat was sore. I would scream when no one was home. The fantasies were driving me crazy. Or maybe it was the reality.
But I wouldn't cry.

Until one horrible night I broke my resolution.
Because I was broken myself. Shattered actually.