Confessional Grief

Are we wise when we allow our
emotions to escape the tight
confines of our misery, to
unburden them to others
whose instinct is to give counsel?
Do we set out to draw counsel
or have we chosen that course
in preference to an unfeeling wall
absorbing our wails of hopeless
anguish when to confront another
may elicit sympathetic nods,
assurances that others too suffer.
Divulging to a special other the
details of regret, confusion,
rejection and pain may bring 
some element of comfort,
releasing the dam of hurt, in a
wash of confession, a fragmentary 
relief, short-lived.  It is not advice
we look for, but tender solicitude
and the trust that in our need we
have not revealed that much
that will make us pitied or 
distrusted, quietly criticized or
scorned, vulnerable, defeated.