“It must have been very hard for you”Said Alice, tapping her hand with hers

“It was, but I said myself not to cry, because mommy would be sad if she saw me cry. So I kept my tears for me. That’s what forged my character, I became this girl who laughs but doesn’t cry, who makes you laugh to help you to forget the bad things. Beside my family -on my mom’s side, because we never were too fond of his family- wasn’t much of a help, emotionally speaking. I think God gave them too much proud instead of the ability to express their feelings. They hardly cry or hug you. They, well, WE, because I was raised that way too after the separation, don’t express our feelings too often. ‘Only weak people cry’ was grandma’s philosophy and we grew under that philosophy. Afterall, it’s easier to shout and scream than cry or ask for help. Crying or asking for help, takes a lot of someone and, in our eyes, it is a sign of weakness. Anyway, back to the story. During highschool, dad came around, but it was like, he visited us for about a month and then, all of sudden, he disappeared for about 4 months”

“In those days I learnt not to give all of myself to anyone so I wouldn’t get hurt. But it was too late, he already had broken my heart and stepped on it just  put a small band-aid on it every 4 months” Her voice cracked as she tried to blink back tears, fanning herself with one hand

“Hey, if you want, we can talk about anything else” Said Alice, who now was on the verge of tears. Bette wasn’t going to cry, but her heart broke for this girl who being so young had suffered so much, but now was here, sitting in this caf, sharing her story

“No, I‘m ok. I guess it still hurts remembering all of this. But I have to finish this. It’s my personal story… I’m a huge fan of Coelho’s philosophy, and in his latest book, he explains that when you share your personal story with someone else, it helps you to heal, it releases you. So this is for me too” She said, now folding a napkin in different shapes