Ben cupped my face, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. I felt a tear escape the corner of my eye and drizzle down my temple toward my hairline. Ben captured it on one finger, and then brought it to his lips, smearing the moisture over them. He dipped down and kissed me, my tear wet between us and salty on our tongues. It was that gesture more than anything else that told me he didn't think me weak, or unfocused, or a burden because of my scattered emotions. He was entrenched in them with me, and I was free to show them, to release them, and let them go.