when the sad parts roll in i cry with strangers. tears for the ladies of west jet booking my flights. stained cheeks in the back of hurried taxi cabs. hooded strolls with stifled sobs. why is it easier to cry with people we don’t know? is it because i don't carry their stories, so i imagine space for my own? is that why we share grief and loss on fb and twitter. a release, but one with a little distance. a little less... reality?