Not Ok

I would rather break my toe off of my foot than cry in public.

Cold and heartless? No.

Tears yield questions and the one question that kills me every time is "are you ok?"

What otherwise may have been a Terrence Howard dignified one tear, will quickly morph into a Harpo-esque waterfall complete with a lip quiver and Michelen man-esque eyes.

I CANNOT DEAL.

Being the eldest child, tear privileges went to my younger sister. I was always "too old" to be crying over something. So I didn't. I would wait until I was by myself and cry about everything that was bothering me....privately....away from anyone who might ask a question.

( Not to mention, that girl wore crying out! Seriously, I think she should've had her tear ducts checked. My tears couldn't compete. She had the crying pass* and never returned it, so I just skipped the activity.)

Eventually, I just wasn't known for crying. Anytime I was moved to tears it would be so unusual that the "are you ok" question would quickly follow.

Siiigh.....

I'd go from crying over something trivial to hyperventilating over every misery that had occurred since the last time I cried.

And let's be real. I'm pale. So you can only imagine the pink and red color sequence on my face. UNSAVORY!

Life's greatest irony? I'm incredibly sensitive. God will have his little laugh.



*if you were blessed enough to have gone through your life without having to deal with a bathroom pass, then this reference will escape you.