I remember this song from The Cure, that my sister Aurélie used to listen to when I was a child. She was a huge fan of The Cure and they rocked her entire teenagehood like no other group. She even met Robert Smith several times when he came to Paris, waiting for hours in front of his hotel with her friend, and finally got a chance to spend an evening - in all innocence (at least that's what appeared) - with him and the band, drinking and probably smoking stuff, bringing back home the coveted treasure: an autograph with her name on it (and even mine once! but I lost it...) signed by his hand, his name preceded by a golden "love". This is one of the first songs I remember by The Cure, and one of the first real sentences I've learnt in English after the usual "cat", "mouse", "good morning", "good night" and other good words.
Boys don't cry. This phrase got stuck in my mind as a unconditional truth and a verified reality: boys never seemed to cry.
|Picture by Robert Doisneau|
And this morning, when I saw this man as I was walking down the escalator while he was walking up on other one, I felt touched because yes, it is true, men have to be strong, they have to swallow their fears and tears and pains because that's what everybody expect them to do and those who don't do it are considered weak. I was looking at this man and, seeing the little boy in him, I felt really sad thinking of all the times he must have wanted to cry as a child but could not and had to find a way to get over it and move on, or fight back. And still today it was the same. Because boys don't cry. They just don't. And still they give us women their shoulders to cry on because that's what we need. Do we give them the same? Would it be so bad if boys cried?