Who says men don't cry

Been crying again  
not just the obvious droplets down the face feeling, but the fact the pillow was    
not a little damp but indeed soaked wet    
   
Gilbert and Esther asleep on my whimpering chest, softly purring    
cats make better therapists than any therapy sessions could help me anyway    
   
Out the blue I get this feeling mum and dad are about to call. I must digress here and say we are not close my family and I, apart from my parents calling ever two to three weeks for about twenty to thirty minutes , no one contacts me through the myriad of means of contact, not even my sister. That's the way it goes when your the black sheep scapegoat, raised in a toxic dysfucktional    
narcissistic family,. I read that scapegoats are the strongest funny being a capricorn    
   
   
Suddenly the phone rings...    
don't even need to see who the caller is, I just know,    
Composed my self a tiny bit, wipe my eyes and snotty nose across my sleeve. Put on a brave sounding voice, (easy knowing they won't see your face) pick up, talk for twenty one minutes and twenty one seconds. Same old conversation , dad talks about some footy score or team, mum about her work.. Or work for the dole, but she doesn't call it that, other forgotten things its all a charlie brown sounding wompwow to me. They ask what I've been doing    
   
Writing furiously, went to an open mic night just trying to keep busy. I read them one of my writes the one with the Dutch title..    
That's nice but you know me and poetry she says I just don't understand it.    
I know why she does this it doesn't effect me anymore, especially at this distance. We say our cordial love you goodbyes and hang up till another three weeks pass by.    
   
I look at one of the cats (forget which one maybe Jacob ) as the tears start their slow dribble down soon to be a waterfall again,say, guess that means I could read her a poem about being raped and it would go over her head...    
I call bullshit though considering she listens to music(poetry right there), reads shitty period piece romance novels and used to be a teacher..    
   
It's not the loneliness that scares me    
nor is it the confusion and the delirium    
or even the emptiness    
no... It is that I'm becoming numb to all this pain and I know apathy comes next.    
Humpty dumpty will never be the same