This time was different

poem- was he who he said and how he spoke to her? Or was he just like all the others?

All the moments,
When she cries in sadness and sorrow,
In public and private.
Some longer than others,
Minutes like hours,
A little everyday.
When it came,
To where she could no
Longer hold it in,
It would all come out.

Until it happened..

She began to cry,
But this time was different,
Rather than tears of sadness,
they were drops of happiness and relief,
That slowly crawled down her cheeks.
It was the first in a Long time,
A feeling beyond she could describe,
But one she valued dearly,
what drifted and poured from her eyes,
from the words that made her rise,
Came from him.
But what she wondered was
if they were lies?