When you're too strong to be weak

People often tell me, "You're so strong." And someone would say to me, "You don't have to be strong. I'm here for you."
But you know, strength isn't when you don't cry. It's when you cry, wash your face, put on your uniform, and go save others while there's no one to save you.

I'm not complaining. I'm just tired. Not from work, but from silence. From men who are afraid of emotions. From the phrases "hold on" instead of "let me hug you."
And yes, I look calm. Because if I start talking, I might not be able to stop.

In the meantime, I'm turning on the toughness again. Because in this world, tenderness is left for later.
And I'm still waiting for someone to say, "You don't have to be made of iron."