"She's in love, and the world gets blurry
She makes mistakes, and she's in no hurry to grow up
'Cause grownups, they don't understand her
Well it's a big, big world out there, but she's not scared...
She finds hope in the strangest places
She reads her books, and she knows the faces
Of everyone that ever said she's alone
She knows every word to the saddest songs
And she sings along, though her friends all tell her
That she can't sing...
She's eighteen, much too young
To know what a kiss like that would mean
But her lips, they were no stranger to the touch
And she likes it way too much."
--Mayday Parade, So Far Away

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Why I'd Cry...And Why I'd Not.

I have to admit, I'm a moderate crier. I don't sit around and sob incessantly without reason--sorry, guys, I'm a little bit stronger than that--but I'm also not the type who sits and laughs when a dog gets shot [Old Yeller, anyone?].

There are only a few reasons why I start the waterworks. I'm pretty sure they're legitimate...

1. Because I'm furiously, fire-spittingly angry. You know you've pissed me off [yes, I said "pissed"] when I start to cry. It may be the most ridiculous response, but I can't really do much about it. If I try to stop crying when I'm already fuming, I just get angrier at myself and it starts a vicious cycle of fury and sobbing. Grr.

2. Because I'm hungry. I know, you're thinking that that sounds really, really pathetic. But you've got to understand, my blood sugar goes CRAZY when I get hungry, and I slip into a state of shock with which only diabetics or hypoglycemics like myself can sympathize. Ask my DI team, they'll tell you what happens when I go more than five/six hours without protein [I am so sorry, guys]. I turn into a superbitch [yes, I said "bitch"... If there were ANY other proper word, I would use it, wouldn't I?], the tunnel vision clicks in, and my limbs and face start to go numb. So I start to cry. Pathetic, yes, but not really my fault. Self-control seems to escape me when I can't feel my arms and my vision's blotchy.

3. Because something terrible, horrible, or otherwise severely depressing has just occurred. Death has a funny way of making me cry, you know? And other kinds of awful situations. I don't really feel the need--or the desire--to elaborate.

That's pretty much it. I don't cry a lot. It's too embarrassing and, much worse, totally sissy. I'm tough, not a wuss. I've got enough control most of the time to make sure you don't know I'm upset.

Yet you can't forget that I am indeed human. I feel, you know. Being everyone else's support hotline doesn't make me invulnerable. And carrying the weight of the world doesn't make me any stronger than the average person.

I feel. I just don't always let you see it.

2 comments:

Ammietia (a girl you once knew) said...

I don't cry all that much either, but people think that if I'm not crying, theres nothing wrong. They forget that anyone can put on a smile or at least an indifferent face. I just go out of my way to make sure no one knows I'm upset, even when I want people to know. Its a habit that I'm stuck with.

~Ammietia

Aerin said...

I agree with Ammietia. I don't think I'm as strong as you two, but I do my best to let let others know if I'm upset, even if they are the ones that caused it.

<3 Love, Madeline