Crying

I was talking with my close friends the other day about crying. Really crying. Allowing the tears to come, and the wails to erupt, and the sobs to rack the body, and the emotional traumas to bellow out of the soul in the form of hiccups and snot.

The last time I really cried like a crazy person I was behind the wheels of my car. I blasted the loudest version of "Fuck Her Gently" by Tenacious D, parked the car in the darkest corner of a suburban parking lot and I cried with every fiber of my being.

Crying behind a steering wheel is just about the best place, in my opinion. I've heard of others going to the last stall of the top floor's bathroom and crying there. Or, maybe disappearing into an alleyway behind a building you work in and crying over lunch break.

We all laughed as we shared stories of false alarms "I thought I would cry, and I tried, but didn't!" and laughed as we reenacted some of the emotional physicality of crying. My friend did a great impression of trying to hide the tears by shaking his shoulders up and down and flinching like he had a tick. I felt the tears well in my eyes from the mirth shared over something that seems so sad and personal, yet was the source of such epic comic material.

I've had times when I've cried so hard I laughed. There are moments when, God Help Me, I Will Not Cry Right Now as salty tears roll down my cheeks. And moments where I've looked into the eyes of a loved one and loved that person so damn much that the only way to express that feeling further is to well-up. I've cried while walking home, in the rain, with no umbrella, with no one on the street and only my short staccato breaths to keep me company. And, hell, I've cried right into a mirror just for the sake of seeing what I look like when I turn on the water works.

I find the best cries are when I'm about to sleep. Just, let it all out like I'm wringing out a rag cloth full of water and then letting it dry. Ahhh, that feels so much better, and lighter.

Crying is beautiful. It's a purely personal and incredibly relatable experience we can all say we've participated in. We come into the world crying, heaving large breaths of cold stinging air into our very new lungs.

I don't consider myself someone who cries often. I know a couple people in my life that can cry pretty easily and frequently and I have never ranked myself with that crowd. So, whenever I do cry I consider it an occasion, a time to really reflect and experience the feelings of whatever it is that has pushed me to that limit where I need to physicalize how I feel. I imagine almost a burning wreckage of an emotional blob bursting and then, like lava cooling after an eruption, fertile ground is made and a whole tropical forest can begin to grow.

That's how I'm going to imagine this new year of being 25, the actual birth-day was the lava eruption. Now: I'm fertilizing a new Hawaii.

The Proposal

"...And I just want to say that I want to spend the rest of my life doing that with you." He concluded his monologue, as in slow-mo he hopped down from the podium he'd been standing on, walked up to his Girlfriend and proposed in front of a room full of audience members who had just finished watching the show for the evening. The room went silent, except for the occasional sob, as the Man got down on one knee and asked if She'd marry him. A small "Yes" boomed through the room as everyone erupted into applause. The happy couple embraced and kissed as the band struck a chord and played a love song.

I felt the unbidden tears roll down my cheek as I tried very hard to choke back a sob. That was such a beautiful moment to witness. I felt so unbelievably overwhelmed by how simple and lovely that honesty and courage was, and how it brought the entire room to silence. I tried to reflect on any other time I had seen a live proposal and couldn't think of any. That was my first one.

I wished that the girl getting kissed and hugged, covered in happy tears: was me. I wished beyond reason that I'd get a call, or a text or an e-mail or that somehow a guy from my past/present/future would come running into the room and, seeing me, come running up and grab me, bundling me up into an embrace before all to see and then tell me the same things I had heard come out of that other guy's mouth. He loved her. He wasn't afraid to tell an entire room. He wasn't afraid of what he felt for her, in fact, he embraced it head on!

I looked around the room at the other teary-eyed girls brushing the salty water from their faces and laughing with embarrassed giggles at how they had all individually "lost it" watching that pure moment of love and happiness. I smiled and laughed along with them. "Yeah, wasn't that funny? I lost it, too! Haha!"

It wasn't until I was on the train coming home later that night, when I buried my head in my hands and had a quick sob, did I realize how impossible that moment seemed for me. That was a fairy tale. A blunder, right? A wish that a young girl dreams of as she falls asleep, imagining her prince charming. Yet, there it was: right before me, happening in real time. It happens. I breathed deep and followed the dance song I had blasting in my ears to help drown out the hopelessness I was feeling. Everyone is different, and everyone has a different sunset they ride off into, that's all... It's not a matter of hopelessness, just patience and a determination to keep doing what makes me happiest in the meantime.