The Flood - Part II

So a few days ago I wrote about the gates being opened and the flood being let loose. That was dumb. I didn't even know what the flood was then. Now; now is a different story altogether. The crying is endless. I can't stop it. On the bus to uni. On the night bus back from Central. In a lecture. In a restaurant. Watching Match of the Day. What has happened to me? Apparently it's delayed shock. But seriously, this isn't me. Usually, in fact, always, I can control tears. Even when I really, really want to cry, I can stop them. Like that time I woke up in the morning and an ex had texted me, and I only read the first line, then I went to uni, and knowing only that first line for the whole day almost killed me, but I knew if I read the rest I'd collapse into a crying heap, so I saved it until I got home. The whole day I wanted to cry. But I held it in. But now is a whole different story. And yes, I know, it's a very different subject matter, but this is getting out of hand. I'm making a fool of myself wherever I go. But I don't want to not cry because it's supposed to be a way of dealing with what's happened. But I definitely think I'm on my way to stage two: Anger. Not that they're angry tears, but I can just feel the anger beginning to bubble up inside me. Before I was just sad. Now, things are a little different. It's not like I'm angry at anyone in particular, except perhaps the world for taking him away from us. I still think I'm in denial about it; it's taking a long time to sink in, nearly two months now. I don't think I believe it yet. But I suppose if the crying is any signal to go by, it must be sinking in in some way.