I dont cry tears for the devil in my chest, but you might
Journal Entry (Originally from my Fetlife) over 2 years ago
Wikipedia aptly defines Dacryphilia as a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing.
Years ago in middle school; it started with a bully calling me a thief, unjustfully i should add. I blacked out and awoke with the girl i had a crush upon ghing and wide-eyed with fear. My hands were choking the life from my tormentor as I was somehow pushed past my limit. But when I opened my eyes, what I saw led me down the path to a Fetlife profile a decade later. She looked at me as if I were a monster and I was stunned by her gaze, with an arousal that seemed to haunt my days. I loved the way I held her focus, like the star of an evil show. And this might very well be the source of sadistic desires hidden behind a sincere caring heart. But I do identify as a sadist in the making.
But back to the tears, they add detail to an arousal of the mind, but are they a factor of the arousal or the driving force to arousal, i cannot yet say. What I can say is maybe I'd like to see you cry.
The justification is not there, so people trudge through stages of cognitive dissonance, so I put my mind at ease making friends with my inner demons like the best eccentrics always do. I enjoy seeing hearing and feeling people react to pain, even when it brings them to tears. I'll own that fact. Some women look beautiful afterwards as well, but the tears wash away...yet my mind feels stained, an addictive personality will do that to you.
This is where I am in my understanding of things...I am selfish; I only enjoy crying when the tears are a result of my impact or for mutual enjoyment I take part in. If they are not tears from pain felt in search of pleasure I offer help to wipe them away. I am certain many of us are like this; but the purpose for my post is that I feel I should make up (or at least attempt my best) for the tears I cause, or are a part of, and I've given to make that happen but my mind still feels that the balance isn't there. It feels I owe a debt to my own soul for enjoying others' tears. And giving is the only way I know how.
So maybe I want to be the cuddly sadist I show when i laugh and smile, but not until I know the lover I am isn't burdened by the monster I have been.