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But when I cry I can never look at him, so I don't know if he ever has.

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My T sits across from me. On the wall to the left there is a painting. At one point, I was telling him something important, and I was sort of crying, and realized that I was completely fixated on the painting. I shifted my gaze to T and said, "God, now I'm talking to a f***ing painting." lol. I was okay with him seeing me cry this way. I thought it was the most attractive cry I could manage, lol-- sad, meaningful, no snot, no mascara streaks. If I had really let go, I would probably would have felt like a complete idiot, which is why I didn't.