Dry eyes and silence

So many times I've said no, no I've never been heart broken.
Never felt the need - any more than usual - to throw it all away,
To hide in the darkest corners of home and refuse life.
I've watched the films,
I've watched my friends.
With their tales of lost love.
The stories with varying endings; love lost, love found,
Hearts broken, hearts healed.
And for the first time, I wonder if this is it.
This feeling that you are a part of my brain,
That nothing is right unless I'm talking to you.

If only I could cry.
Weep hot, salty relief down my tired cheeks.
Caress my wounds in the restorative exertion of sobbing.
Squeeze the holy water from these eyes,
Whimper howls of healing from the depths of my being.
But I can't remember how.
Stuck with dry eyes and silence,
I don't know if this counts. Can't tell any more if
My heart is cut, snapped, bleeding, broken
Or there at all.