Crying is a fickle character. She balances the wire between the conscious and not.
She rides the swell of emotion while clutching the hand of reason.
No other pastime requires both so little and so much effort.
And there are days when that somber dew appears for no reason, perhaps the most frustrating of all in the face of logic. And yet, like the forgiveness of a friend, like a long-awaited sleep…it affords to most peace.
I cried, sobbed, yesterday. Christmas Eve, of all days. Having had to deal with months of stress related to an unknown illness and the death of a loved one, I think the weight and reality of the entire ordeal just crashed in on me.
I hadn’t cried before then, I hadn’t wanted to let alone needed to. And for some reason, perhaps the combination of a million micro-factors, I found myself there in the throws of a deep cry.
And…I felt better…