Can I tell you a secret?

Sometimes, I have these nights where I think to myself, "I haven't cried in a very long time. I think I have to curl up in bed, tonight, and sob for awhile."
This is one of those nights. No particular reason. I'm not sad, not outwardly. Not even depressed. But I know that there's a deep sorrow somewhere in the reaches of my mind. It's always there and always has been. At the marrow of my heart, there's a mass of uncertainty and childlike fear -- the fear that compels me, on these nights, to coil into fetal position with a stuffed animal I've had since birth, and just bawl for hours.
I've often wondered if I'm the only one who ponders the physical pain involved in crying. Do you know what I'm talking about? If it hurts bad enough emotionally, my very nerves suffer. Specifically, the nerves sprouting from my heart and down through to my hands.
My wrists ache when I cry.