I used to come home after work and see you on the stairs, tears streaming down your face. I'd ask you what's wrong and you'd shrug at me. I'd see your phone with messages too cruel to type. I'd say, "You are better than sitting here crying for yourself when he should be crying that he lost something worth looking for, you!" The tears would stop and she'd smile, already feeling better. "But, if he made you cry, he wasn't worth it so don't cry over someone like him again."