I tend to write and joke a lot about crying. The truth is, I don't actually cry all that often. Sure, I often feel like I want to or am going to cry, but I don't really actually do it. Every so often, though, it does happen. And when it does, boy does it ever happen.
Yesterday was one of those days.
I felt it stirring up inside me right before I left work. It was about something that most people would think to be stupid. A non-issue. But I had been slowly getting worked up over it for two days. I could feel the tears coming as I walked down the street to the train station, but I shoved them back down. I felt them rise up into my throat again as I stood under my umbrella in the pouring rain, waiting for the bus. I managed to fight them off again. As I walked closer to my house, they came back. This time they were stronger. After checking the mail and finding nothing there to lift my spirits, it started to spill out. My eyes welled up and I ran down the steps and around to my door. I barely managed to get the door shut behind me before I was full on SOBBING.
It lasted for about 10 minutes. A good, hard, gasping for air, UGLY cry. Then it just stopped. So I took a picture of my tear-stained face and saved it away for later. It was a weird thing to do. But I just felt like I needed to do it. Not two minutes later, my phone rang. It was my Mom. I swear, the woman has radar. She always knows when to call. I talked to her for awhile, made some dinner and then went to bed. I slept for ages.
I woke up this morning, and pulled up the crying photo. I burst out laughing at the sight of my sad little face. It was so silly and kind of adorable. So I guess it wasn't such a weird thing to do after all.
I've been smiling ever since.
1 comment:
you should check out dane cook's bit about crying.
it's pretty much what you just said. and it's really funny.
except he cries while looking in the mirror... no pictures of himself.
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