Take your pick. . . I'm sure that it hasn't been more than a couple of days, probably Saturday night really.
I keep things bottled up so badly while I'm in public that when I get home, and I'm alone, small things will key me off and I'll let it out, I really don't have any choice, that lump in my chest is so big that nothing else fits anymore.
And if you don't like it that I'm a guy and I cry, hell with you, I'm not doing it for your approval and I don't need your approval to justify it
besides, would you rather I turned into one of those "quiet people, he must have just snapped" types?