Perhaps it's because men try to avoid weeping. I really like the line: She might think that I've forgotten her, don't tell her it isn't so.
The man thing may be training, may be something else. There's an essay in the book Marginal Natives, Anthropologists at Work, where an anthropologist follows Mohawks from southern Quebec around to see why they take most of the work on top of skyscrapers. The anthropologist discovered that the men didn't enjoy falling to their deaths off of tall buildings but that they were trapped in a little culture that made them pretend that they were not afraid. Sometimes it might help if we boys just admitted that it hurt like hell, shed a tear or two, and made better decisions.
I don't want your dreams to lose a thing. Could you play them on the banjo instead?