I Just Want To Cry All The Time

I want to cry all the time. But I can't. So I don't.

But I want to.

It's like an ever-present jumper on a building with a fence on the rim. He's always standing there, just over the edge, looking down, wishing he could be at the bottom of what he's on top of. But he can't.

Sometimes, it's because he's not supposed to. The sign on the fence says no, he shouldn't be on the other side of it. So of course, he has to follow the rules.

Sometimes, it's because he simply can't muster the strength to climb the fence. It's too tall. Nevermind he climbed all those stories to be up there in the first place… That fence is the last .2 miles of the marathon and after all that running, he just can't run anymore.

Sometimes, he's just scared. A coward. He is too afraid of the consequence, so he doesn't take action.

But the vast majority of the time, it's because he knows he's full of shit, and that the view from up here is so gorgeous and jumping would just take that away. And thinking about how beautiful the view is gets him thinking about how beautiful the world is, especially in the fall when the air turns and the breeze kicks up and the birds fly south, contrasting their dark shapes against the bright clouds in the blue sky. And he has to remember, "I'm supposed to be sad right now. I'm supposed to want to cry right now. Don't forget that. Happiness is so boring and trite… Don't forget amidst all this amazing beauty in this present moment where nothing is actually wrong right here and right now, that everything else sucks and I'm supposed to be hurting. Stay sad, man. Stay sad."

So I don't cry. I want to, but I don't. Because I know that with everything in my life I could enumerate and put into a list of "shit gone bad" it won't matter right here, right now, where the sky is gorgeous and the birds are flying and the breeze is blowing in and I feel little goosebumps crawling up my legs and my spine and my arms and I feel Autumn coming.

I know that the rest of this year and all of 2014 will be filled with "This time last year, [X] happened" because this entire year has been disastrous. Almost daily, some new something happens that, in any other year, would be the worst thing possible ever.

But I can't cry every day about it because I have conversations with friends who help me through every [X] I face. I am lucky to have even one... But I have many. I have a group of friends on an email chain right now discussing my latest breakup and helping me through it with jokes and support and love. I have a friend who is flat out paying for my back window in my truck to be fixed. I have friends who came to a book signing last Friday and hugged me and told me they love me and took my book out into the world for their friends to check out. I have two friends who took in my cats when I had no room for them, and who loved them and made them a part of their family, and when one of them passed, were there for me like I was there for them for us to mourn together.

There's so much joy being uncovered in all this pain. There's so much to be thankful for in all this loss. For every disaster, there's a crew standing there with shovels and hammers and nails and warm meals, ready to help. And there's been a LOT of disasters. So to see this many people show up to help me... Humbling isn't the word. I'm thinking more like "Unparalleled." It shows that, at some point in my life, I've done something right, because when I needed them most, I've been surrounded by the most amazing people on the planet.

One does not accidentally make friends who will march with you into hell. And while I do indulge in feelings of despair and hopelessness when I dwell on all I've lost, my brain eventually calls "bullshit" and makes me remember that, for everything I've lost, I've gained one thing that it's impossible to have without going through something like this:


I want to cry all the time. But for every second I want to cry out of sadness, there's another minute I want to cry from joy.

There's a huge, huge hole I have to claw my way out of, and I have a long, long way to go. But not a minute goes by where I don't hear someone cheering me on from somewhere along the sides. So I know I'll get there. It might take years, but goddammit, I'm going to get there. If for no other reason than the fact that I'm not going to make their showing up to cheer me on a waste of time.