Rebuilding

She was lying on her carpet, her face streaming with tears, crying out loudly over all the frustrations that she had. All the fights, all the failures, all the self-doubt. Each wail stood for one frustration after another. 
After about an hour or so, after her wails had turned into sobs, heaving, and soon nothing, she got up. Her throat dry, her eyes swollen and her nose stuffed. This was nothing new.
She wasn't the kind of woman who let her frustrations out; only a handful knew what she was going through. All the anger, all the frustration, all the sadness. It was all inside. She would be like this until one day it would be too much to handle. Those were the days this happened. A fight at home would trigger her and it wasn't just shallow crying, it was a cry from her soul.
This was her way of breaking down. This was her way of rebuilding. Of starting new. This was her way of making sure that her frustrations didn't follow her. That they stayed there. In the tears that she shed.